November 22, 2009

• I can't possibly...

  Having realised that I entitled the last entry 'Knackered', I cannot do the same with this one.  However, I am.  Tired.  I think that the high from the post-rugby-match-festivities (which is enhanced by drinking full-sugar cola drinks, as that's the only non-alcoholic beverage available), is followed swiftly by a Sunday evening low.  A low where I think that I haven't heard from my Welshman all weekend.  Well.  He did phone, but I missed the call and he didn't leave a message.  A low where it's dark, and grey, and wet, and horrible, and grim outside.  Wet and windy all day, and my umbrella broke, and I lost a glove on the bus and my dairy-free-cream-cheese has a crack in the tub and I need to Get Stuff Out for Dad and there is still a fridge in my sitting room and a couple of rust stains on the carpet.

  Oh winter.  Can I hibernate?

  I need to do the following before I go to bed

  • make the bed
  • the Brownies accounts
  • pack up the router so it can be reprogrammed tomorrow morning.  Also pack up the parcels that need to be taken to the post office to be mailed.
  • finish knitting the collar on Mum's sweater (a knitting black hole if ever there was one, the cowl collar)
  • eat something vaguely sensible and healthy, having had crisps and cake for lunch, and a mid-afternoon snack of boeuf bourginon and rice after rugby. Slice of toast with a topping of some of the rescued side of the dairy-free-cream-cheese, plus mini tomatos (tomatoes?) and carrots.  Also, orange juice.
  • make tomorrow's packed lunch.

  Sigh.  Again.

  xxx

  ---

  Spoke to my Welshman, and we will have a picnic on Tuesday (hurrah!  I think.  Anyhow, I get to see him, which will be lovely as I miss him).  The Great Dane Puppy's girlfriend has arrived and informed me that I look tired (does she not have a place of her own?  Am now keeping a record of when she's here as I'm getting to the point where I feel it is too often, but I want to work out if that's my perception or no.) .

  Must. Pack. Stuff.

  And then make the damn bed.  I want to have a bath and get straight into it afterwards.  Making the bed is a loathed activity.  Perhaps I should cave, and give up on the five blankets, and have a duvet?

  xxx

  • 3:22 pm
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