Dawns second blog ever!

I just sat ere finkin, 'should I av another blog?' I thought, 'not sure if I've got ote to say', so, that made me think I should av a bit of a blog coz when I'm not finkin bout ote I can fink blog. If that doesn't make sense what I mean is, when I'm not thinking about anything specific, I can blog about random things that pop into my fuddled brain.

My brain is fuddled just now because it's so full of stuff. I keep forgetting to do the things I should do and just doing any ode stuff that I don't have to do but want to do coz I like it. I'm not sure whether this is deliberate but I am actually starting to get a bit worried that when I fell off that horse just before Christmas, I really did do something to my limp, grey matter.

They sent me home without a CT scan coz I seemed fine but I actually worry that they should av done one. What if I hav a clot in my finking regions and it takes over the whole of my creative regions too? Then I will be just like a jerky, robotic, terminator type construction that talks complete and total gibberish all the time. I might develop a liking for wearing socks on my hands and playing the bagpipes with a tea cosy on my head. Do not roll your eyes and say, 'Dawn, you are being so dramatic! That could never happen to someone as together as you.' And I know it's hard to imagine the scenario, me being so totally sensible and all but I say to thee, yes to all of thee, if my creative lymphs (or whatever bits of your noodle are called) were wiped out by a bleeding blood clot I would happily do myself in with a gardening implement. I'm not sure which one or indeed, if one would suffice. I don't even know the names of many gardening implements - let me see - hoe, spade, fork, sequeters (I don't know how to spell it but I'm assuming it's French), shears, mower.....erm.......no, that's your lot...oh rake...just thought of that one. Anyway, did you know it's actually really hard to do yourself in coz your body won't let you. It would rather let you knock yourelf unconscious, therefore disabling yourself from hurting your own self further.

Why do people take their mobile phones with them everywhere? Even when they're at home most peeps keep their mobile next to them. This makes me annoyed coz I reckon we've become enslaved to technological communication. Used to be a time when the phone rang and you answered it if you were there or not if you didn't want to. Now, when the phone rings, and it rings everywhere you are, you can check if you want to talk to the person first before you answer it but the chances are you answer it anyway. And we even go, 'Oh flippin eck it's such and such, shall I answer it or not' to the person sat next to you. What the? Just switch it off when you get in then you won't be in the dilemma in the first place. If you haven't got it on people can't ring you can they. Nothing's that serious that they can't get in touch with you on the home phone if they need to coz only peeps that really matter have that number. I was in a public loo the other day and someones phone was ringing and she answered it in the cubicle....I mean come on.....what is that important? And she was only talking about crap (no pun intended) coz the conversation went a bit like this - 'yeah it's me' (who else would it be when you've just speed dialled a name off your call list?) 'you've done it?'....'and you said what?'......'and they said what'.......'so you said'.......'that's what I wouldve said'.......'oh shit, I've dropped my fone down the loo' ......well she didn't actually say that last bit but I wish she would have. Excuse me, my phone is ringing.......

I shouldn't have started this blog coz I haven't really got long enough to blog. I have to go and pick Charlie up from footy training then go and pick Lauren up from work then go to work myself. I don't like to be disturbed when I blod coz I like to sit for as long as I need to sit and just talk about wanderings. I have to go and get changed before I go out coz I won't get the chance to get changed later and it will be a bit hard for me to teach a dance class wearing these jeans Perhaps when I return from said dance class and I have had a shower and a nice glass of red wine - now do I mean a nice glass of red wine or a glass of nice red wine - whatever I mean, I may return to blogging at that point in the not too distant future. I may, on the other hand, just crash into my bed knackered which is usually the case by this time of the week with 14 classes taught and one left in the morning. I like my Friday morning class, it is my favourite. Lisa used to come to my dance fitness classes but she don't no more. I don't fink she actually likes me vair much and this is just her way of trying to say 'Look Dawn, I don't like you vair much', without actually having to say, 'Look Dawn I don't like you vair much.'

I must away.

Speak later