In an adaptation of one of Austen's novels, life is described as a series of 'busy nothings' and that is the perfect description for my life right now.
I am busy, there is loads going on, but none of it is important really or exciting.
Somedays there are so many 'busy nothings' I feel like my brain will explode but when you try and explain what it is all about to someone else it is almost impossible. It is more a sense of having too much to think about, achieve and control. My stomach feels like it is on a permanent roller coaster.
I fear I shall continue in ever decreasing circles until I finally disappear up my own backside. So if the blog goes quiet for a while, or I'm not on FB, Twitter or Rav, don't panic or send out a search party. I am safe, up my own arse, wibbling in a rectal corner, trying to make sense of it all and get a better handle on coping with all the 'busy nothings' in my world.