Renee

Content writing, reading porn and finding my Twitter twin

This week’s kept me so busy content writing and strategizing that I’ve barely had time to tweet.  I must remember to start scheduling them properly, just like I advise my clients to do!  My mum always told me ‘Practise what you preach’ (or was it ‘Do as I say, not as I do’?) For those of you who are not yet addicted to the delightful world of Twitter, this is how it works: you tweet, someone likes what you say, they retweet so their followers can see what you’ve said.  Then their followers hopefully follow you too.  New followers, new friends.  Please note, I’m not recommending that anyone looks for a twitter romance here, it’s not that sort of website.  My own Twitter boyfriend has turned out to be most erratic. (No, that was not a misspelling…)  Anyway, the point I want to make is that you meet people from all over the world that you would never otherwise have found.  And it can be very weird… For instance, I have found my Twitter Twin!  Sharon is a lot like me.  A 30-something (Shut up, Bro-Lo) businesswoman with two teenage sons, working towards her second OU degree, just like me.  This is how she describes herself: “blogger, mentalist, business manager, student, carer, charity trustee, full-time fun, crazy gal…the list goes on!”  How spooky is that?  The only difference is that she is tidy whereas I don’t even pretend to work in anything other than glorious chaos.  This is good news for Steven – if I do get hit by that bus, there will be another one of me just around the corner.  Or maybe on the other side of the world – Twitter is not geographically discriminating.

On a different subject entirely, I have started my meditation course.  You have no doubt noticed that this week I have been calm and serene, not getting hassled or annoyed about anything or anyone.  I’m not talking about the day my Internet went down for eight hours AND my printer broke; that cold, windy day when I was forced to dash out to get a lovely new one, which I was so pleased to discover works on wifi – but of course couldn’t work at all while the Internet was down.  No work, no studying, Scrabble withdrawal – prompting a few concerned emails from Naked Scrabble Buddy and the Cake Lady.  So actually, I may have been not at all calm and serene that particular day.  Or the next when I broke the photocopier at the community institute where I teach twice a week. Or, in fact, the next,  when I got told off by a grumpy man in the oxygen chamber for reading ‘porn’ – which was, in fact, just a regular article in the Guardian:  The first sexual revolution: lust and liberty in the 18th century – it was quite good.  (I thought his mask was getting a bit steamed up…)  But anyway, as you can see, despite those stresses, now that I’m all busy with my kapalabhati and patchouli oil, everything’s rosy.  To match this new me, I’m lighting candles more often, fairy lights are strewn around the house permanently and I’m growing my hair long again. I think Steven’s worried I will start wearing floor-length, floaty, see-through chiffon dresses (I might) and stop shaving my legs (I won’t). Carol and Gordon have always said I should have been a flower child – born much too late. I can imagine myself dancing at Woodstock dressed in daisy chains…

As Scott McKenzie said, ‘If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.  If you’re going to San Francisco, you’re gonna meet some gentle people there.’  Well, whether you’re gentle or, like me, still on the far side of frazzled, Twitter’s the place for us to meet.  You can always find me there: @WeekendWitch.

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