I've just been talking to my mate, Will, who works in design - he's much cooler than me. We were talking about the blog's new look. He said that it reminded him of a bit of some old Lincolnshire promo. He then managed to find it.
I hope that I don't get put in prison for breaking copyright law by reprinting it here. It's hardly worth doing bird over.
Anyway. There's something funny about unexpectedly getting this new look. It's a bit like that programme "10 years younger" where someone else decides what your face is going to look like for the rest of your life.
I quite like the idea really. I hate making decisions. I've worked for myself since I was a teenager and I constantly have to make decisions. When I screw up, there is no one else to blame. When you have a business and staff you carry the can for everything and it feels like a heavy responsibility.
Much as I would love to be pedantically questioning the intimate graphical detailing of this page, I'm pleased that someone else is sorting it out. All I have to do is type. That's fine by me. To be honest, I would be perfectly content if someone chose my clothes for me in he morning and told me what was for dinner every evening.
Freedom and choice are exhausting.
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