In a swirling haze I woke up today. Bare days now until Tom's back. Thoughts streaming.
I've got to go and put some more paint on the bare bits of the wall. It's my one concession to being useful whilst he's been away.
Today has been copying and pasting codes into systems and begging for a cleverer way of doing it.
It's also been nipping out into chill darkness to collect Christmas presents I missed when out this week and last.
The mechanism of online shopping intrigues me. I press my button, the order whizzes off, fufilled by automaton, or handpicked. It flies across the country by van and usually, the post office approach my door with whatever it was.
There was a huge queue at the delivery office today, probably all Christmas shoppers too. Some like me with more than one card, we're never in.
I had to do a merry dance in the car park. Too many people all looking to go to gym, which is next to the post office, or for their parcels.
Bizarrely my jade plant seems to have thrived behind the competition of the cyclamen in front of it on the mantle, whilst the cyclamen was in here whilst we decorating.
I suppose I ought to dust before we put the Christmas decorations up. Anyone know a good cleaner in Southampton?
I'm seeing an old friend in London tomorrow, after my work meetings. I'm horribly nervous about it. We've not seen each other since my wedding. She was my foil at school. I fought with my bully to be her friend, from when I was seven. I once stabbed her in the wrist in a fit of pique with a fountain pen in a maths class. She was my dancing buddy, the evil queen to my Aslan. I envied her confidence, her beauty, her sense of adventure. She's working in London now, living with her partner in a converted church. She was braver than I, studied dance and languages at uni, went to live in Spain for her course. Will we still have anything at all to talk about?