the diary vanishes

This is my Haruki Murakami 2009 diary. Tash bought it for me for Christmas last year, because I love Haruki Murakami books. And this is really, really nice. It's designed as a perfect extension to his stuff published by Vintage. It has the same photography and some nice quotes interspersed throughout. But the thing is, I'm rubbish with diaries. I've managed to get key dates in, like birthdays and pay days. But I don't really update it regularly enough with stuff I'm supposed to remember. I'm just too disorganised to make that work. So I was faced with this dilemma of how to use it in a meaningful way, and not waste such a lovely thing. Just recently it came to me to use the diary as a kind of Twitter-ish type thing for flash fiction. Not that it has to stick to 140 characters or anything. But it does have to get used, once a day, to tell a story in the small space defined for me. It doesn't really matter whether they are any good; it's only important to do them. It's a strange kind of discipline that I feel I can stick to. So far.

other stuff i'm doing

So my baby boy is a week old tomorrow. And it turns out that taking care of daddy business is a heady cocktail of extreme, frenetic activity mixed in with periods of complete idleness in which you do as much relaxation and/or other stuff as you can. So, aside from catnapping every few hours, here's what I've been up to: Reading a couple of very good books. Contributing to Dawdlr (which is sort of an anti-Twitter). And, most importantly, enjoying eating peanut butter on toast.