Notes from week one-thousand, three-hundred and eighty-nine
A quick point to make: a whole pot of coffee is not ideal for writing. A lot of people have propogated this lie over time. It makes you write a lot, definitely, but it’s all wildly meandering and directionless. It lacks the tunnel-vision clarity of a whisky write, even though whisky will lead you down terrible rabbit-holes.
It is only week two of the attempt to do weeknotes, and I’m stuck on where to start, again. The week has blurred hugely. I thought it was finishing much earlier than it was, and then it lingered on considerably more. Time, and my experience of it, got deeply monged along the way.
I wanted to return to my twitter account to see what I’d been saying (as much a guide as anything about the ongoings, despite the semi self-censorship). Unfortunately, twitter’s handling of time is shocking. Scroll, scroll, scroll. It’s quite disrespectful really, treating everything as being so deeply ephemeral and meaningless. There’s no history. I did find an online app that would do what I wanted: create a calendar view of my posts. Twistory links out to iCal, Google Calendar & any apps that support either. Mine is here, if you’re that way inclined.
Read on, reader