Writing something totally personal is surprisingly hard. There's a whole wide world out there. But let me see now:
I could say I took the dog for a walk. But I don't have a dog.
I could say I took the wife for a walk. But that would be sexist.
I could say I fell off a stepladder and broke my leg. But that would be a lie.
I could say I get dreadful depressions that last for days. Except that I don't.
I could tell you about my unusual pubic hair. But that would be Too Much Information.
I could tell you I only wear stiletto heels in the privacy of my own home. But you wouldn't be interested in that.
I could tell you I'm full of anxiety and self-doubt. But who isn't?
I could tell you who I have a massive crush on. But you would just laugh.
I could say my childhood ambition was to be a trapeze artist. But you wouldn't believe me.
I could say I had no childhood ambition whatever. But you'd think I was an utter dimwit.
God, these stilettos are killing me. I'm taking them off right now.
Where was I?
