It’s Fucken Monday. I wake up feeling grim, headachy and snotty nosed. After brief consideration I decide to call in sick; if nothing else it means I’m not spreading my germs around. It’s the first day of the school holidays, and Rachel is coming over to look after the Kinderbesten. I’m not up to taking over for the day, but I message Rachel to let her know she doesn’t need to get here as early as planned (she turns up at 9am instead with a fresh pack of Lemsip for me). I use the time to have a bonus morning shift.
Later in the morning, I manage to catch sight of a too-tempting offer on my favourite internet deal site and end up spending $80 that I probably didn’t need to spend on wine that I probably didn’t need to own. But it’s eight bottles of pretty damn good wine for the price, and it will inevitably be drunk and enjoyed, so I’m not kicking myself too hard about it. That said, I had silently pledged to avoid all unnecessary expenses during July so I can get my financial safety net back into four figures. I view this as a future saving: it’ll save me having to buy wine at $15-20 per bottle in the future. For a while, at least.
We all enjoy a game of Exploding Kittens, before Rachel takes the kinderbesten away to Garden City so I can rest. I shut myself in the bedroom with the heater on, and continue to work on my story.
Around midday I get distracted by a work issue. Someone has complained because a request wasn’t fulfilled quickly enough. It destroys my writing mojo. I decide I may as well turn my attention to work, and do what I can to resolve the issue. Not long after that, Rachel comes back with the kinderbesten. With little else to do, we spend some time doing a long-overdue sort out of the Kinderbeast’s old clothes, while I also bake some banana bread with the wealth of ageing bananas I seem to have accumulated.
I had planned to start watching The Night Manager this evening, but the Kinderbeast ends up settling later than planned, which wipes out my TV viewing window. As a fallback I invite the Elderbeast to join me for a bit of Rise Of The Tomb Raider. Between us we manage to get past the first few levels before I decree it to be bed time. I’m quite excited about this because I finally put my brand new flannelette sheets on the bed earlier in the day. They are are comfy as expected, but I’m still damn cold. I have two layers of pajamas on, the flannelette sheets, a winter duvet, and a sherpa throw … but I’m still damn cold.
I’ve decided it’s time for me to start reading again (as in novels, not internet articles). I put some thought into rereading It, one of my favourite Stephen King novels, but instead opt to use my fading memory to my advantage and be at least a little but surprised by the impending film adaptation. I also consider rereading The Stand (yet again) but am less excited by this prospect than the book deserves. Finally I remember I’ve yet to read The Ocean At The End Of The Lane, a Neil Gaiman book, and settle down to that. I only get one chapter down, but it’s a start.