(no subject)
Nov. 26th, 2011 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolLast night I instructed Richie to, and I quote, "wake me up before you go-go!" He responded with a mildly baffled "don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo?" Bless him, he can quote Wham and still query my need to wake up before noon on a Saturday morning. That's love for you.
Today I have been INSANELY PRODUCTIVE. I was at the recycling centre by 9am, at Asda by 9.30am, and back out Christmas shopping by 10am. I finished my Christmas shopping triumphantly by about noon, and kicked the door in as my hands were laden down. I fail to understand how this was the case, to be honest. I'm buying presents for basically no one, and I'd already sorted a few via nabbing them from Debenhams and Richie. ARGH SO MUCH STUFF I AM A VICTIM OF COMMERCIALISM.
I imagined that I would finish up and then come home, have a leisurely lunch, and then have a nap. This didn't happen. I put the laundry on, ate a quick lunch, waited for the laundry to finish, and then bumbled back out into Southport as had failed to buy milk or indeed anything to eat for tea. Came back, scrubbed flat (mould, begone!) and only sat down at 5pm. My muscles are aching and I feel a little shell-shocked, to be quite honest, because it feels like the day should be much later than it is. Oh well. Flat is shiny, shopping is done, I can spend the evening watching Strictly and Merlin and then I can sleep.
I tend to spend my cleaning Saturdays because if the flat is messy it makes me unhappy and I can't relax properly. Normally I tend to throw cleaning cloths at Richie when he's off midweek, but he hasn't had a day off for about three weeks. He has one off tomorrow, and obviously so do I, so I wanted to be able to relax tomorrow and do some writing which I can then whore out to the world in an attempt to actually get good at it.
But now I will sit here with aching arms and drink a cup of tea. Tonight I am going to attempt to cook salmon and all. I do not know how to cook salmon. I am fairly sure I don't like salmon. Attempts to be slightly less fussy over food are failing, shall we say. Then I shall drink lots of wine, possibly to remove the taste of salmon. Hurrah.
Today I have been INSANELY PRODUCTIVE. I was at the recycling centre by 9am, at Asda by 9.30am, and back out Christmas shopping by 10am. I finished my Christmas shopping triumphantly by about noon, and kicked the door in as my hands were laden down. I fail to understand how this was the case, to be honest. I'm buying presents for basically no one, and I'd already sorted a few via nabbing them from Debenhams and Richie. ARGH SO MUCH STUFF I AM A VICTIM OF COMMERCIALISM.
I imagined that I would finish up and then come home, have a leisurely lunch, and then have a nap. This didn't happen. I put the laundry on, ate a quick lunch, waited for the laundry to finish, and then bumbled back out into Southport as had failed to buy milk or indeed anything to eat for tea. Came back, scrubbed flat (mould, begone!) and only sat down at 5pm. My muscles are aching and I feel a little shell-shocked, to be quite honest, because it feels like the day should be much later than it is. Oh well. Flat is shiny, shopping is done, I can spend the evening watching Strictly and Merlin and then I can sleep.
I tend to spend my cleaning Saturdays because if the flat is messy it makes me unhappy and I can't relax properly. Normally I tend to throw cleaning cloths at Richie when he's off midweek, but he hasn't had a day off for about three weeks. He has one off tomorrow, and obviously so do I, so I wanted to be able to relax tomorrow and do some writing which I can then whore out to the world in an attempt to actually get good at it.
But now I will sit here with aching arms and drink a cup of tea. Tonight I am going to attempt to cook salmon and all. I do not know how to cook salmon. I am fairly sure I don't like salmon. Attempts to be slightly less fussy over food are failing, shall we say. Then I shall drink lots of wine, possibly to remove the taste of salmon. Hurrah.
