Something I may grow to love about blogs is their, for me at least, instantaneity. I started writing a post yesterday, which I didn't have time to finish, and after looking back on it I now have to begin again because I feel differently today.
Initially I was annoyed that the Commonword blog platform doesn't allow you to save drafts, meaning I had to save yesterday's half-post  as a word file on my desktop, but actually I think it's a good thing - suggesting you should write your blog and do any edits in one sitting, so when you press 'publish' you pinpoint exactly how you were feeling at that instant.
It's been a whole month since I last posted, so I feel a little out of practice anyway. I've spent that time (well much longer than that really, it's just been particularly acute these last few weeks) in the doldrums of writer's block. I had to pull out of a couple of projects, citing 'too much on' (much like Pete's friend's 'working on other projects' mentioned in the comments on Segun's blog), and as my mission on this blog was to write a poem a week, and as I've hardly written anything at all, it became impossible to comment on anything here. Anyway, I'm going to talk more about the reasons behind that in tomorrow's post (I'm making up for my absence by blogging double this week, like an errant husband bringing home flowers and chocolates!). Today I feel happy.
I feel happy because it's National Poetry Day and I'm in the middle of writing a blog about being a poet, having done a school's performance this morning and preparing to do a gig tonight. The performance was at Chorlton High School to about sixty Year 9 pupils, one of whom was Dike Omeje's niece, which made it particularly special as the booking, like this blog, was a result of winning his eponymous slam poetry award, though it made me more nervous when reading one of his poem's at the end! It went off without a hitch though, and I really enjoyed it. I think I managed not to waffle too much about myself in between poems, and I effectively censored most of the swearing (but what can you do with a line like 'I don't need to chill out, you need a kick up the arse, I wanna excel at everything I do while you just seem happy to pass!'?). There were a lot of budding young writers there too, who all had plenty of questions at the end, and even a few poems of their own to drop on me! I'll post a photo of us all as soon as we've got parental permission.
The gig tonight will be at a new night of folk inspired music and spoken word called For Folk's Sake at Cup in the Northern Qtr. But I'm not allowed to use too many blog inches plugging gigs so I've attached the poster as today's image so you can read it for yourself.
I'm also happy today because I lost my part-time job last night. This may seem a strange thing to be happy about but though I will miss the money, and some of the people it has to be said, it feels massively liberating. Since I started working in a restaurant again a few months ago, after a bookings drought brought to an end a three year spell of self-employed-suffiency, I've been constantly fretting about getting time off for gigs or workshops in advance and getting shifts covered if I'm offered them, and putting my co-worker's noses out of joint at the same time. Following an accidental no-show last week the management and I 'mutually decided' that I should finish at the end of next week. Fortunately I'm making enough money from writing, performing and facilitating before I go to Nepal in November for this not to be too much of a problem, just less pocket money for sweeties, but when I get back it means I'm going to have to hustle a lot more! This, I've been a bit slow to realise, is what you have to do if you want to survive as a freelance writer/performer - be pushy to get work, in much the same way as an independent plumber has to go around asking people if they need any pipes fixing when first starting out. Let's hope the change of attitude will leave me a bit more flush!
Sorry about that terrible pun. To end on a slightly better, though no less silly, note, and in the spirit of this being a blog that publishes poems not just rambling about them, here's a couple of limericks I found in an old notebook the other day when trawling for inspiration (Mr Kalu, they are not about you!):
 
There was an young fella called Pete
Who went on his hols down to Crete,
Said a lady he met
(Though it was for a bet):
'Is it true about men with big feet?'
 
Not a person who easily shocks
But one who thinks out of the box
 Said Pete: 'Yes, it's true,
That men with large shoes
Require equally volumous socks!'

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