I was totally right about the coat lining, I put it straight back in the next morning, whispering fervent, heartfelt apologies to the gods. There has been unrelenting icy rain all day. I have broken Belgium, it will be like Narnia here soon, all Turkish Delight and fauns and allegories and DEATH.
Unrelenting icy rain.
Poor productivity today currently standing at 2/3 of one dreadful article about running, zzzzz, with no hope of further progress due to wine and intense Friday indolence.
Nagging anxiety (squared up to shitty work thing, but have not heard back - did I email the wrong person? Possibly. Do I dare check my sent items? Hellnoes).
Accidentally dropped a log on the dog (he's fine).
Director of Rat Entertainment for the week in L's absence, a heavy burden. So far I have offered my charge a new cardboard box, he seems unmoved.
Has Russia invaded Ukraine? How worried should we all be on a scale from bof to CONVENIENCE MARRY A SWISS PERSON INSTANTLY FOR A BUNKER SPACE?
Everyone is away skiing (freaks) and I have no plans to go anywhere or do anything except read books, drink tea and wine, watch House of Cards (I am on ep 6 series 2 and not finding it very engaging at all - does it improve? They are talking about vertical integration in the energy sector! If I wanted to listen to that kind of shit I would have stayed in competition law) and have long, languorous baths; possibly all at once. By Wednesday I will be lonely, missing the boys and semi-insane, but these first couple of days will be dizzyingly wonderful.
Finally - finally! - I have boot success, of a sort. They are these from Marks & Spencer and are cheap-ish and comfortable and who exactly am I, because the person I used to be did not consider those criteria to be worthy of ANY consideration in shoe selection. You may be reassured to hear I am not "teaming" them "with a floral dress" as per the serving suggestions on the website. I am teaming them with slightly too small jeans unzipped to accommodate my post-dinner stomach, a bobbly grey sweater and a pet rat, and they are doing just fine. M and I both consider 'western cut' boots give you sausage limbs, but beggars cannot be choosers.
Indian takeaway ordered - it will be so-so and make me pine for Tayyabs juicy juicy lamb chops, but it is better than no Indian food at all*.
(*Post-takeaway postscript: pleasant enough, but literally NO flavour at all. None. How do you even do that with Indian food? I am going to have to resort to DIY daal making this week, I can tell).
Rats are shit at selfies.
What delights does your weekend hold? Will you be speaking to other humans or like me, wandering around your house in ill-fitting leisure wear, occasionally treating pieces of furniture to dramatic monologues?