Lost: One Mojo

"I have of late - but wherefore I know not - lost all my mirth"
Hamlet, Act II, Scene 2

So, understatement of the year - it's been an odd few months. And blogging - even from this quiet corner of the net - requires confidence; instinctively it seems to me that posts should leap from a position of, if not authority as such, at least the sense of being authored, from somewhere even marginally together, integrated. And I have felt neither together nor integrated for a while ...

But, onward/upward/jedward! Today is the first day of the rest of my wife! (Did I say 'wife'?! Oops, Freud! Your field day beckons ...) One of my mentors once admonished me for not writing, by saying that it was selfish that I was denying the world of my work (ego-boost much?) and one of my recent blog-crushes urged me to relocate my aforementioned MIA mojo and return to the plog. So it is with utmost tentativity (not a word, I realise, but it should be) that I dip my unlikeley (see previous parentheses) pedicured toe back into the www-world. In the process of trying to locate my outer adult, I have been forced into uncomfortable small talk with my inner child. It's time to welcome her back into the fold.

As I welcome you, dear patient reader. This could just be a temporary relapse, all sound and fury signifying nothing. Then again, maybe it won't ...

Thank you for your indulgence.

xxx