In the Shadows of the Dust

To blog or not to blog? That is the question.
What is the answer? To not blog.
I was in the middle of editing my 5th blog entry, one that I had already composed last week, and which is the 5th out of 13 blog entries that I have composed, only 4 of which, before this Short, micro entry, have been posted. So this is Blog entry 5a or 4b or something confusing. Whilst in the midst of a sudden spurt of creative flow I was rudely interrupted by heavy bouts of dust mite provoked sneezing, followed by endless trickles of runny nose syndrome, which have resulted in my using up 3 boxes of Kleenex anti viral super soft tissues. I have used so many tissues that even the most over priced super smooth tissue on the market hurts my nose when I blow it. This is no ordinary cold. This has been going on for weeks now. It is not a fever or a full blown virus. Bad as they are at least they go away after a few days. I had one of those over Easter weekend and it cost me a Poker game. No, this is much more sly and cleverly paced. In the shadow of the dust, this virus is working slowly and gradually, like Darth Siduous, that 2-Dimensional charcter in the terribly dry and arid Starwars prequels. It is coming at me from behind and tearing me down bit by bit, drop by drop. It is working, as I feel dreadful and am walking around with a perpetual drip form my nose. I could get more graphic in my descriptions but that would stop even the low numbers of people who read this blog from continuing to read it. So I won't.
Suffice to say I had to sort out this perpetual cold/ possible dust allergy problem before it stopped my blogging altogether. So I took up the mighty sword of Miele and went with my trusty vacuum cleaner to do Battle with the source of the Dust Mites sustenance, the dust itself.
The battle of the dust was long and hard, both sides holding their ground and refusing to capitulate at any cost. The battle soon turned into a war of attrition that both sides stubbornly entrenched themselves in. There seemed to be no end in sight, but the end did come for I am here to compose this blog and recall the tale of how I ventured into the dark, cavernous depths of my baking loft and sneezed my way through to dump all the useless dust gathering furniture and 3 year old magazines in the furthest corner of the loft. I then had to clear up all the swarm of my daughter's many toys scattered around the hallway, left in a path of attention less destruction as I battled not just against dust and toys but time itself. I need to get this done before my wife and daughter come back home, as my daughter is scared of the mighty Miele hoover and we also only have a small window of opportunity to go and vote for the European Parliament elections.
Anyway that window has come, as have my wife and bubbly daughter, so I have to go and vote to ensure the greedy capitalists and the fascist BNP do not get the power they do not deserve.