Ramble, ramble

I think a lot in the early morning hours. I wake up before it is really time to get up. Who makes up those rules anyway? The ones about when wake up time is and stand up time is? Oh, wait, I’m a grown-up now… I do. Oh my god. I’m a grown-up? Surely not? But yes, somewhere along the way I got qualified, got a job, bought a house, pay taxes, pay people, own a dog and two cats, turned 36 years old and I guess that all qualifies me as a grown-up. Pity I feel like I’m 15 still.

Where was I? I was thinking, in the early hours, while the birds wake up outside and the sun creeps in. Thinking all manner of things from what I'm doing to what's happening in the world to how wireless headphones work. My mind flits from thought to thought, settling on one thing only long enough to bring up more questions. The answers float around listlessly, not quite awake yet and, mostly, out of reach.

And stories, stories float out of me and flit about like the giant mosquitoes buzzing about in my bedroom. And then? Then, unfortunately, they flit out of the window and down the driveway and over the hedge and away. To wherever stories in your head go. I imagine it's a fabulous place full of talking paper clips, cats with six legs and eyelashes longer than you've ever seen and clouds made of candy floss.

Waffle, waffle, warble, squawk... this is possibly the most rambling post I've ever written, and you know I'm an excellent rambler! I shall think of something sufficiently exciting/controversial/beautiful/inspirational for the next one. Or, at least, I'll try.