Life snakes on, slithering through the undergrowth of dullness and habit. I can report sun days, rain days, and work days. There’s not been much going on that’s exciting or worth banging on about.

Next weekend we were supposed to travel to Wales, to Caernarfon, but that’s been cancelled because the couple we were going with have split up in recriminations, outbursts and attempts to involve the wider circle of friends in their war of words.

The strange land of friend-zones apply. The English part of that couple is still a friend because he was first in our acquaintance-list, and the Welsh component is a person to be avoided lest the English person is upset or angry. It’s just tiring, and I wish they would grow up and deal with things like adults. But alas, no.

Since the Welsh part of the couple had the contacts in Wales, that’s gone now. So, unfortunately we have nowhere to stay unless we pay for a hotel room. But since we were not going to stay in Caernarfon but rather roam about the Welsh countryside between sheep and the relatives and the friends of the Welsh component… It’s just not going to happen now. At least not until they kiss and make up, or stop shouting at each other.

Mark and I will stay here in town and revel in our inactivity and rest this summer. In ten days we celebrate our first anniversary. I’m starting to panic about what I’m going to think up for that. I want to do something brilliant, exciting, fresh – but I don’t feel any of that. Undoubtedly I will think of something, or Mark will. He does have this scheming look about him when I catch sight of him in the corner of my eye.

I have started to read more books now. I realised this when I wolfed down two in two days. The curse of the Literature student has lifted, for now. I read books for enjoyment, rather than analysis. I plan to start another today. I’ve kept it upstairs, and haven’t even leafed much through it. I’m going to savour it when I snuggle down with it.

It’s also August. The new school year is starting to loom in my mind. I was a bit disappointed with the first year, and I swing between fear that it will be more of the same and hope that things will be better. There’s only four weeks left until it all starts anew, and I will have to gear up to the challenge of ensuring that I get another year.

So, yeah, life snakes on. Nothing to report. Nothing to say. Nothing to write blog posts about. Which means I’m not writing much at all, and that gives me another level of urgency. I’m not even writing much in my Black Journal either.

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