That subject makes it sound like this is my last post before I die or something, or like i’m about to reveal some massive secret about myself, like that I’m a murderer, or I took a selfie with Adele. Neither of these are true, although Adele, if you’re out there and reading this… well, le’me take a selfie?
so, an apology, I say. Are you interested?
I thought not, but hey ho.
On a quick branch line from my main train track [don’t judge me for my train examples], I wonder where they expression Hey Ho came from? It sounds like some kind of noise a horse might make. Hang on, I’ve got it! Scientists got it all wrong; we didn’t come from apes, we came from horses! That’s it! Well done, L: you are the mind of the future.
Back to the train track, anyway. I need to apologise in advance, because I’d feel bad if I didn’t, and that’d ruin my weekend. I’m talking about the weekend as in the two days at the end of the week, not The Weeknd as in the Canadian singer/songwriter, although it might ruin him too; you just don’t know about these things, do you? So, this weekend, starting tomorrow evening, i’m going away for the weekend [again, the two days, not the creepy dude from Canada].
An organisation for blindies like myself is organising a weekend away in a city which I shall not disclose, because I’ve read too many of those books where the main character finds out the city of the love of their life [who is invariably preparing to kill themselves], and spends the weekend desperately hunting them down. they always find said person, and I’m scared that will happen to me, so I will not disclose the name of the city that I’m going to. The weekend is full of activities and, God forbid, clothes shopping. Yes, of course you may kill me now…
Basically, my weekend is me, stuck with a huge group of blind [and usually bonkers-but-not-in-a-good-way] people, in an activity centre in the middle of nowhere yet somehow only 10 minutes outside of previously mentioned city, trying to act like a normal blind person and deprived of my blog. I know, fun weekend, right? I think I do it to stay connected with the blind world. it’s a small, and dare I say shrinking world, and there are too many people that know me. However egotistic this sounds, too many people want to keep up with me as a friend, and doing these events kind of lets me off the hook. I see people that I don’t dislike but don’t like, and therefore don’t go and visit often, and then when they ask me to go visit, I can say:
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I’m not free on” –insert date here– “but we did see each other on that weekend, like, a year ago… Really? That was three and a half years ago? No, never! And you say you weren’t even on that weekend? I swear you were…”
You see how disasterous my social life is. Anyway, it’s only 48 hours – not even that -, and then i’ll be free to go home and never see any of those people again for about 12 months, maybe 18 if I’m lucky. Plus, the up side to this weekend is that I get to share it with one of our favourite bloggers, who we all know and love. Yes,
is going too, and so she should be able to keep me sane throughout my ordeal. Well, our ordeal, I suppose, because I know she has similar feelings to mine on this matter.
Anyway, I’ve told you enough about the weekend now, so let me explain: I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to post while I’m away. Stop smiling, you; this is sad news which I am delivering.
Excellent word, is delivering. Delivering. Delivering… Satisfying. As I can’t hear you repeat it after me, let’s do it together, separately, but together as one. Come on, say it loud, say it proud: 1, 2, 3: DELIVERING. Well done: I think that was a nice bonding activity.
Why was I saying delivering again…
So, I’ll take a Bluetooth keyboard just in case – I might post on the train up or down, you never know your luck!
So, remember guys: if you get withdrawal symptoms, please visit your doctor at the first opportunity. And by doctor, I mean psychologist, because there is clearly something seriously wrong…