I spent today alternating between sanding and painting, and reading online journals with Deb.

We've delved some way into the world of online journals before, and of course writing this is a direct result of this, but we hadn't quite realised just how many there are. There's a shitload. And there's web-rings for male writers, female writers, over 30 writers, Generation X writers, angsty writers, funny writers, left-handed writers(!), non-american writers, university student writers, writers who write every day, and writers who look at the meaning of life.

Mike to Deb: "Hey, do ya think I could get onto this web-ring?". I kept firing off e-mails and filling out forms, saying, "let me in, let me in".

Deb is doing a Master's course in Communication Studies. She has to write an essay on design issues in a communication area of her choice, and has been stuck for a topic. Around lunchtime I had my brainwave. Write about design issues for online journals.

So. Most of today has actually been spent researching. I'm the research assistant. There's so much you can justify in the name of research, including spending a lovely sunny afternoon and crisp clear evening sitting inside before a computer reading about other people's lives.

"Just one more, please?" .... "But we need to eat!" .... "This is research Deb, stay focused".

Sundays have always been a difficult night for me to go to sleep. Partly it's because I'm just getting used to weekend hours - actually my waking and sleeping hours for the weekend are pretty similar to the weekdays, but at least the potential is there for staying up late and sleeping in - but it's also because I have this need to feel ready for the week ahead.

Some of the "feeling ready" is just mundane stuff: having the house clean, laundry done, bills paid etc. But the more angsty part, the part that's most likely to keep me awake, is whether I feel ready to face my job the next day. If there's a nagging feeling that there's something I haven't completed, or if something's coming up that I really don't want to do, then no amount of house cleaning gets rid of that.

Hmmmmm. This was a dumb thing for me to write about. Now, I'm sitting here thinking about work, and what I need to do, and getting all depressed about it.

Lesson One for budding journal writer: what you write about can affect your health.

That's really not a fair way to end though. The weekend has been pervaded by a pleasant glow stemming from our basketball win yesterday. It never fails to intrigue me, and, I suspect, exasperate Deb, how much influence whether we win or lose has over my moods. If we lose, especially if we lose when we should have won, I'm pissed off. I'll be sitting there, 24 hours later, with a scowl on my face replaying an incident from the game where I could have done better. If we win, however, I have this zen-mellowness about me. The world is good.

I hope this is a good season! *smile*