Do you know, I sometimes start something, and get so carried away by doing it, time stands still for me but passes by in the blink of an eye.
I’ve recently updated the WordPress App on my mobilius phoneus, which looked quite exciting when I opened it… the colours looked different, and I thought it appeared to have a new, sleeker look. I then went to the Reader, and saw a message advising that the Reader was moving, and in order for me to continue using it, I had to install the Jetpack App.
I did as I was asked, and opened the Jetpack App, which looks exactly the same as the old WordPress App, only with different colours. I was then told I needed to uninstall the newly installed WordPress App to prevent some kind of conflict. And so, the sparkly-looking new WordPress App is no more, and I have a new version of the old app with a different name (and colour).
Once I opened the Reader, I looked at the filter, which listed the sites on WordPress I follow. Some of these sites haven’t been updated for several years, and others have been updated but I’ve had no interaction from the person behind the blog for a while even when I visit their latest posts.
So, continuing with the theme ‘out with the old and in with the new’, I’ve ‘purged’ these sites from the Reader, my intention to replace them with newer blogs over the coming weeks and months.
This post, dreadfully boring as it is, is my response to a prompt I saw whilst in the new Jetpack App.
I just carried on with my purging, concentrating on the screen to make sure I didn’t remove the wrong blog, which I think I managed OK.
It was only after ‘completing’ the task, I realised I’d actually slipped into the Timestream Of Incredible Boredom (in other words I’d nodded off) and woke up in the middle of next week.
Whilst in the TOIB, Gravatars, bloggers, words, headers, and menus flew around my head, kind of like me ending up lost in that tornado that transported Dorothy to Oz all those years ago.
I found myself on red brick roads, off to see the warlock, with a cardboard man, a stuffed tiger and a shop window mannequin, oh and a little white kitten named Logo, all of us just about avoiding an obvious copyright issue. Or a creative rewriting of a classic in dream format.
As I was lost, in the middle of next week, the way back was relatively easy, once the solution was revealed by a squeaky voice inside a wheelie bin in the warlock’s cellar… I just had to tap two ells to get back home to Kans… er… Cheshire.
I did, and I’m back. No longer lost in my activity.
With a little more space in my reading list.
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