Should I blog about Boris or, for that matter, Brexit, I asked myself...
But it seems hard to avoid. Britain’s next prime minister has just been voted for by fewer than 100,000 people. Taking back control has certainly worked for a very small number.
Even his supporters beyond his electorate acknowledge that the hardest part of what he has to do now looms before him. He has pledged to take the UK out of the EU on the (extended) deadline of October 31st.
Whatever side of the referendum you are, it is hard to deny that Brexit has been Kryptonite to Conservative PM's. David Cameron’s decision to trigger the vote ended his Premiership; Theresa May’s time in Downing Street is not going to be a period she reflects on with any fondness.
Now Boris has achieved the ambition of a lifetime, he is face to face with the all-consuming task which has devoured his predecessors.
In any moments he has alone, is that a thought that fills him with the spirit of Churchillian optimism he so readily reaches for in his public utterances?
Or does the overwhelming scale - and risks - of the size of this challenge leave him, behind the bluster, thinking: “Cripes.”
Brexit is described as Britain’s biggest peacetime crisis, but I think most people are not Leave-at-any-cost nor Remain-at-all-costs. What most want is an outcome which does not damage jobs, lives and a prospects: as a minimum. Hardly stirring rhetoric, I grant you.
MPs are preparing for this defining moment by going on holiday for six weeks at the end of July, leaving them about the same time to give their judgement on what the new Prime Minister has in store when they get back in mid-September.
Already, ministers have resigned, rather than serve under Johnson, while politicians across all parties continue to militate to ensure Brexit Boris cannot bypass parliament for a no-deal. And those are just the headlines.
Even when the fateful hour approaches, were we to leave (it is not a foregone conclusion) trade agreement discussions would only then begin: a mountain of toil awaits.
Having reached the summit of his ambition, Boris finds himself in the foothills rising towards this immense decision. To fortify himself, will he fall back on his much-flaunted classical education, the font of frequent Greek and Latin quotes and epithets?
As his victory sinks in, does he imagine himself as Odysseus, having reclaimed the throne rightfully his? Or Sisyphus, turning round to see the boulder rolling back down the slope towards him yet again?