I haven’t left the house all day. Haven’t been well, another fucking cold. And yes, my training for the charity run falls even further behind. I digress.
So I sprockled about, beginning the day with a couple of hours of inspired phlegm gargling and general bad temperedness. And there’s nothing like a bit of hoovering to help that. Fifteen minutes did it for me and then I surrendered to playing with pictures I’d taken the night before, mini-me the subject. They were worth fiddling with, I’d been playing with bouncing flash. Long and short of it, they’ll go on the wall. Then I put a leg of lamb on to roast.
Mid afternoon I played with my cough, hacked a bit. Chewed a bit. Spat a bit out. Sorry, hope you’re not snacking while you read. Just swallow, think of a fresh sea breeze. Better? Great.
Back to me. Next I decided to open up my camera and try to clean some inoffensive dust out of it. It didn’t show in the pics, just the viewfinder but I’m a fiddler and I refuse to leave anything alone if I have a chance to take it apart. I have a small black shoulder bag that carries some basic tools. In the house I’m never further than 20 feet from it. It never gets put away.
Camera apart, camera back together, dinner. What to do? I know, lets take the laptop apart. I can’t hear the fan running and it has been overheating the last few days and cutting out. Where’s that bag? Twenty minutes later, facia off, keyboard off, fan out, fan fiddled with in an I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-but-do -you-honestly-think-I’m-going-to-put-all-this-back-together-without-playing-with -the-fan-I-DON’T-THINK-SO sort of way. Laptop has now been on for 6 hours, no shut-downs. Pheew!
In between all this I check up on item I put on ebay that I got for nothing, the sale finishing a few minutes ago. Forty-six pounds. Straight into the Paypal buy-something-you-don’t-need money box. And a book on Photoshop is what I don’t need. Or a new camera lens. I craft my ebay listings as if I was selling a Fabergé egg. I stalk other similar listings, see how much they end up selling for then list mine and try to get at least that much. Pathetically sad you say. And you’d be right.
Where’s this going? A diary of my day. What I was thinking when I started writing was what do other people do on Sundays? What did other people do today? What is a normal Sunday these days?
Normal Sunday? Hungover lie-in till 12ish, fry up & pub, or lying on couch muttering to self about the evils of drink.
normal sunday? 12 hours at work whilst not feeling well…….that’s pretty normal….
Be prepared to chew on that phlegm for a while. I’ve been chewing for over a week.
Normal Sundays- Stay in pajamas until 2pm, drink lots of coffee, watch lots of news. *Yawn* Thrilling, I know.
Normal Sunday: Sleep late, coffee and fag while I check emails and blogs. Shower, dress, start preparing dinner. Put on a wash, more dinner prep, put washing in drier, check dinner. Eat dinner, wash up, iron clothes from drier. More time to waste on internet. Bath, check blogs, bed with a glass of wine and phone to catch up on everyone else’s exciting life!
Sighhhhhh, I need a life!
sheepworrier, ah, the memories…
manuel, awww, you’ll want me to feel sorry for you now.
Sarah, still chewing.. and coughing, and blowing.. and sweating. And Sundays, you better slow down.
Ellie, quit the fags. And buy iron-free clothes.