Trying.

How old do you have to be before you get it through your thick skull that when you’re inordinately fond of somebody you have to give at least as much priority to their needs as you do to your own? And in some circumstances, even more.

It’s this dog mind I have:

‘C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. Me me me. Throw the ball. C’mon.’

Better than being a monkey, I suppose. Monkeys are nasty with it.

So, to anybody who might take a personal interest in this post, I would just like to say this:

I am cognisant of the issue, and I am trying...

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This is no way to conduct a blog.

‘Why not?’

‘What?’

‘Why isn’t it any way to conduct a blog?’

‘Er...’

‘Right, then. Shut up and go to bed.’

‘OK.’