The sentence that you are reading now has, by this time, been written and rewritten several times, in the hope that it grabs, entices and encourages you to read the rest of the post. In this respect, I’m experimenting – and “experiment” seems to have been something of a defining word for yesterday. In the afternoon, when I found myself agonising yet again over what to write on this blog, a friend came to my rescue with a suggestion that had never even remotely occurred to me before. In many ways I often have trouble venturing out of my comfort zone, and so the idea that they offered would require me to dip my toes into unfamiliar waters, so to speak. Nevertheless, I was definitely intrigued.
When we’d made our way through – and discarded – various potential blog post topics, there was a brief pause before my friend asked if I had considered doing an experiment. If you look at my last post, you’ll see that some experimental ideas I have aren’t always sensible enough to conduct with confidence, so instead of instantly proclaiming her suggestion to be brilliant I felt compelled to ask what she had in mind. “A social experiment”, she said – and almost immediately images of mad scientists bringing their evil zombie-like creations to life filled my mind. Part of me was already pretty unsure about it, but the other part thought that maybe she was onto something. She elaborated further, saying that maybe I could take someone who was an introvert and encourage or help them to become an extrovert. Whether you choose to take such a task on or not, it’s still a substantial one, and therefore one less likely to be doable for a mere blog-writing mortal such as myself. I think there’s still room for thought, though. Perhaps something else can replace my friend’s idea, because I can’t help but feel uncomfortable about the idea of trying to change someone.
In the corner of our living room, a guitar sits unloved and gathering dust. Louis had bought it not long before Christmas only to quickly decide he couldn’t persevere with it, and when he tried to sell it nobody seemed to be interested. He might have been a little taken aback by the fact that it wasn’t immediately snapped up, and so cast it aside to remain largely untouched – until last night, that is. Dad came in and, wondering why my average keyboard skills couldn’t extend to the guitar, placed the instrument on my knee. Of course, I only got about as far as Googling the order of the strings before putting it back into the corner again, and in any case I was never really that interested in being a guitarist. This morning I tried my luck again, but if I’m honest, I was most pleased about being able to hold it properly. I might not be destined for guitar greatness, but there’s nothing to stop me tinkering with it from time to time. That’s if I remember to get it tuned properly, obviously – which it wasn’t earlier on!