The Mehness Ban

Meh. Meh with knobs on. Meh with knobs on and sprinkles of extra fine Mehness.

S’been that sort of week.

Wellll, I suppose it hasn’t, overall – got a couple of edits done, got some great news from authors, made some real progress editing my own book and that’s all good and groovy, but in terms of an eating regime or an exercise regime…meh.

I’ve had good moments this week – been weighing with the absurd regularity of a teenager, and there have been moments when I’ve thought ‘Yes! Like a boss!’ when I’ve done that. But as I write this, capturing my mood on a Sunday afternoon in Starbucks, with a verboten Strawberries and Cream sliding down like liquid guilt, I’m all about doing the Meh-Dance.

Going to the funeral of a friend of my childhood tomorrow (Monday). So part of me thinks ‘Fuck it, could be dead tomorrow.’ And then the altogether more sane and sensible part of my brain kicks in to say ‘Yyyyeah, but one of the main contributing factors to her early death was rampant alcoholism. So, pretty much unless you want to be dead tomorrow, get your goddamned game on, dickweed.’

The conflict between these two emotive directions appears to result in general humpiness and an overall sense of fundamental Mehness. But – new day, new week, new challenge to not be Meh. Life is what you make it and other assorted Disney bollocks. Let’s not make it Meh, cos that seems to be the crappiest obituary possible.

There you go – Mehness forbidden. Down with Mehness. One way or the other, let’s start the campaign for real emotions right here. Grey may have fifty shades, but let’s face facts – most of them are pointless. Starting Monday, Mehness will be banned.

So there.