I've been toying with the idea for a while, mainly because I enjoy writing, but what has stopped me is always the same thought; is this blogging thing just an extended Facebook status? If you haven't got anything to say or a story to tell, why tell it?
Well, I might have something to say now, or at the very least; the therapeutic effect of writing now trumps any criticisms of exhibitionism I might expose myself to, so sod it.
Quick background, we won't dwell too long in this territory, it isn't all that important and my life has been an ordinary one.
Norwegian, 36 years of age, mother of a boy of two, happy in a relationship with the love of my life, Rich, he is English and the reason I find myself living in London. Before this, I lived for some years in Copenhagen. I left Norway for Denmark in 1998, but remain close to my family; three sisters, Mum and step-dad, Dad and step-mum, three brothers in law, 4 nephews, 2 nieces.
I work in IT for a large bank. I like cooking and gardening and sci-fi movies. I have a crush on David Tenant as The Doctor . I have played every Lego PS3 game made so far. I have a real, actual fear of zombies, a serious Christmas obsession and I like knitting.
And I am in hospital.
For nearly 2 weeks now, which is reason enough to turn to writing as relief from the boredom and a means to keep sane. But there is also the fact that last Tuesday they told me I have a congenital heart disease.
Bummer.
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