Friends - I’ve decided to blog again. From the sanctity of my flat in Amersham, this news launches shockwaves of profound indifference across the home counties, but personally, I’m delighted, as are my two ever-present cheerleaders and dubious role models - Mum and Dad.
There’s been a number of reasons for the hiatus, which can all be packaged into one word: life. New job, new home, new theatre company and enough post-pandemic partying to make up for the two lost years of my twenties have all rather filled up my headspace of late. These distractions have, ironically, also led to lots to write about. What’s more, a recent period of poor health served as a vital reminder for the need to hit pause sometimes, especially if doing so can make space for a pastime that’s being neglected.
Blogging has long been a much-loved hobby of mine that started with documenting a turbulent year abroad in ‘A Tale of Two Cities.’ This was followed by ‘The Dressing Gown Diaries’, launched to break up the never-ending rejection of the graduate job hunt from my childhood bedroom.
The title of this current regeneration, The Carla Chronicles, was selected purely for alliterative purposes. However, flicking through its virtual pages, I’m amazed to discover how much of life has been accidentally chronicled here. There’s one-year after uni Carla, trying to make sense of a life without course progression and essay grades to map out her path. There’s Covid Carla, wondering if we’ll ever be allowed to meet up in groups of more than six again. One of the more recent posts introduces Corporate Carla, sharing lessons learned from the commuter army as she breaks out into the big city.
A picture may paint a thousand words, but a couple of hundred goes some way to capturing a snapshot in time. I can’t wait to see what version of Carla will be chronicled next.
