Here are some rules for personal bloggers. They’re bound to be useful, sure to be the formula for instant success.
Rule number one: be interesting. If your life is boring, stop blogging. Oh, that doesn’t work. Well let’s try rule number two: if you have to drop names, then do it casually, as in “took the car in for a service, treated myself to yummy dark chocolate with orange in it, had drink with George Clooney to discuss the problems in his latest script, bought the groceries, made supper blah blah blah. Boring day.
Rule number three: only tell the truth and don’t exaggerate. If your day goes something like this, it’s fine:
6.30 Alarm went off.
6.31 Pressed snooze button.
10.30 Hammering on door by boss. Woke up, had forgotten snooze button kills the clock. Answered said door, groggy, unapologetic, and dressed in – well, never mind that. Boss said “I came to fire you but by God you look sexy”.
10.33 Went back to bed. With boss. Had a fine time.
12.40 Boss got dressed, kissed me on the cheek – and fired me.
3.00 Had interview with tabloid journalist. Bought a box of dark chocolates and celebrated my capacity for revenge ha ha. Didn’t like the job anyway. Quite liked boss, though. Bastard.
5.00 Huge bunch of roses arrived with note from boss “can’t get you out of my mind”. Ideas of revenge melted, to be replaced with horrified regret. Called tabloid journalist who said “you must be kidding this is my first byline.” Finished the chocolates. Might as well get fat since I’ve lost both job and best love opportunity I’ll ever have in my life.
But if all you did was get up, go to work, come back home, switch on kettle, watch TV, dream about Paris, New York and Milan and wonder what boss would be like in bed – well, I say forget the rule about exaggeration, just make something up.
Since I don’t have a job or a boss and I just didn’t have time to fit George Clooney in today, I took a trip to Paris, New York and Milan. Actually I went to a bookstore with a chic café where you can read all the magazines, and treated myself to a yummy café Americano and dark chocolate muffin sort of cake thing that sent me to heaven. And I read all the new Vogues for this month, and Officiel haute couture, that kept me in heaven.
Flying high there for a while. Thank god for an imagination. And chocolate, of course. And George Clooney.
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