I’ve lost it. Some would argue I’d lost it ages ago, my mental stamina that is. Now I’ve lost my imagination. I’ve lost my mojo, last seen on the M25 via a trip to Liverpool last week.
Yes, the fire in my belly has been reduced to a mere cinder. My get up and go has got up and gone.
I’ve got a blogging schedule as long as my arm, recipes to turn into masterpieces for Lavazza, a first birthday party to organise and presents to buy, a flat to pack up and sell, a house to find, another (no the same, again!!!) garden leak to sort out (hence sale of flat!) AND my day job…!!
There aren’t enough hours I tell you! I’m in quite a disarray as to how to remedy this. My mojo has been the hand I needed to lead me off into that place of escapism where I could blog and write silly stories about my otherwise very normal existence. The place where I can ignore all the other stuff and pretend that the life fairy will come along through the night and wave her magic wand … poof, all fixed!
So dear friends, if you happen to come across a lively mojo that looks a bit lost, it’s probably mine. Please return to owner, unharmed and fully intact. A reward of sincere gratitude will be given in abundance!