It’s Saturday evening, and you find me sitting in the dark of the study (read: junk room) at home in front of a blinking cursor. I just remembered we had some small cans of cider in the store cupboard, so have retrieved one. Party for one. I know how to live.
It feels like I’ve fallen off the world this week. In the fleeting moments I’ve had to look around, it’s felt like watching the world whistle past in a blur - and not quite knowing how I might jump back into the fray.
Here we are though. Sitting in the dark, listening to Kylie Minogue streaming from somewhere in the cloud, drinking cider, and wondering what I might share about the last few days.
I went running twice this week. That counts for something, right? I’m still not back to running five kilometres, but at least I’m doing it. I keep telling myself that. I need to force myself out of the door at lunchtime to at least go for a walk - it’s too tempting to waste my lunchtime running around the house like a lunatic doing chores - filling the washing machine, emptying the bins, folding washing, and so on. It never ends.
A parcel arrived in the post today - a Christmas present for myself and my other half. I already know what it is - a vinyl album box-set of the first decade of “Now That’s What I Call Music”. When our lounge is finished we’ll be able to fire up the record player and turn it up to 11 - which will hopefully annoy my daughters endlessly.
I just had to hit “next” on “I should be so lucky”. I love Kylie, but I have my limits. The cloud gods are now throwing “All the lovers” at me. Better.
I can hear crashing and banging in the kitchen - I should go find out what’s going on.