Delete Delete Delete

Have you ever written two entire paragraphs, stopped for a moment to scratch your nose, and then deleted every word on the page?

I just did.

I was writing something about podcasts, except there was a lot of me, quite of bit of I, and then came the gigantic yawn. Who cares Kirsty? Which is what I tend to say to myself in these delete moments. I mean, who really gives a toss what you think about podcasts? Who cares what you listen to and why you listen to it?

Delete.

The cursor returns to the top of the page – flashes. There is nothing, my mind empty with words I cannot say. Don’t write about the rumour that you’re leaving (we’re not), don’t write about the fact that you’re not depressed about being back in Doha (I’m actually quite excited, there’s some super cool stuff going on), don’t write about your jet lagged boring bed by 7 must remember to stay awake long enough to have sex with my husband existence.

The cursor flashes.

Start again.

Today is not a day for writing. I have a child at home, an essay to write, a digital media project to finish, and a new pebble smart watch that keeps beeping at me every 30 minutes to get moving.

I have exciting things: a workshop on the 31st to plan, an event with fancy food and the Middle East’s top bloggers. I have boring stuff to do: I need to pick the dogs up from the vet, make two afternoon school runs, print out a geometry worksheet and run through some French vocab.

But most of all, right now, I feel a need to reconnect to you. It feels like ages since I sat here, in my Doha house, coffee on my desk and laptop on my, well, lap.

How are you? Where are you? Why are you here? Are you an expat? Are you not? Are you a blogger? Are you not? Are you happy to be where you are or desperately waiting to move on to something else? Tell me. It’s time to start a fresh year, a fresh introduction.

Are you willing to say hi in the comments?

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