I realised today that my 250-350 words a day are only skimming the surface. It was meant to be a minimum number but seems to have become the norm.

It would probably be possible to write a dozen 250 word posts during the day and give a better picture of my life. However, I have other things to do and if you think my life is dull now, just wait until I give you 3,000 words of it. It would be like having a sack of wet cement dropped on your head – grey, mind-numbing and burdensome. So I will stick to short sketches of the futility of my existence.

This morning was grey, but traffic was light. We had a few parcels to pack at work and a few auctions finished. We have ben listing things from the junk box this week. Just over half the lots sold, and though some of them made the minimum bid several made good money. This just goes to prove that the difference between junk and a desirable collectable is in the ye of the beholder.

We only have a couple of people who look in the junk box in the shop, but via eBay we have showed it to dozens, and several of them are now happy.

I spoke to a few customers, added more stuff to eBay and came home, where I had pasty and beans for tea (we didn’t feel like cooking much). They were ASDA pasties and not as good as Ginster’s. I knew this would be the case, but they were cheaper and I thought I’d give it a go. It wasn’t a pleasurable experience and I now feel a little bilious.

Then it was TV, snooze, waste time on eBay, blog and , now, make a drink before going to bed.

And that is my day summed up in 300 words. It isn’t much of a life, but it’s better than the alternative. Maybe it will get better. The picture is from a picture library and serves to remind me of mortality and greyness. It’s been that sort of day.