i have a current new obsession.
no it is not the new late night adult channels that have popped up on freeview - i only know about them because i needed to for the purposes of 'research'.
neither is it the contemplation of the significance of part-works in the developement of western civilisation. do they ever finish? has anyone ever completed one? are there societies of part-workers?
nor is it a contextualised reading of the works of liz jones to see just how out of touch she is with reality (very) and just how bad a writer she is (very).
no my current obsession is with diaries.
naturally this will not last long, if only because of the very nature of diaries.
i am not even sure why i am so interested in them - i have never been able to use them. i have had various diaries over the years: pocket ones, desk ones, filofax ones, ones that have a page a day, a week over two pages, a week on a page. some have been hardcover, some have been softcover. all of them have ceased to be useful after about two months by which time i have misplaced them (ok ok: lost them) or i have forgotten to put important dates into them.
yet i find myself in a situation where i desire a diary.
what makes it even more bizarre is that at the moment it is not like i have a lot of things to put into a diary, it is not like i have to make sure i keep all my lunch engagements straight.
all the same - diaries call out to me. their siren call is strong. they lure me. they tempt me.
so far i have been strong and resisted.
time to go looking for a new obsession, perhaps now is the time to read the fiction of katie price.