This afternoon while everyone was working, I put an electric blanket on my bed and topped it with a mattress topper. Now it’s before eight and I’m in bed and I’ve got no intention of leaving it.
Chicken Satay this evening and I got a bit too jolly with chopping the red chili up fine. Since I cooked I’ve been experiencing all sorts of new sensations. I put some chili in my eye taking out my lenses. Got chili in my nose too blowing it. And despite thinking I had thoroughly washed it all away, the process of jamming that instrument of torture in the crevices of my toothypegs has given me an all over fiery chili mouth to boot. I would be feeling sorry for myself were it not for this electric blanket making the bed nice and toasty, plus I’ve got myself a can of lager. Lager kills chili.
I’m mostly feeling sorry for Lou. She’s gonna be working until midnight in a stormy Bedford while I’m living this life of Reilly with an accessorised mattress and the luxury to shove chili into all my soft bits. I’ll be asleep before she’s finished at this rate.
The dark and the cold are closing in, and I’ve had time to notice it. My brief excursion to the outside world brought home a sense of general drizzly greyness, and a fading light at lunchtime. I’m glad not to be working today. I can have a weekend in the middle of the week and do the cozy things that make the cold world more bearable.
Frank, Boy and I have a pretty pleasant arrangement up here in the cold. Good food and fluffy cat, luxurious soft furnishings. Definitely got nothing to complain about. My mouth hurts and I’ve got a cold. But sleep will help with these things, and I can lie in my ‘jamas in my hot bed listening to the rain on the window and thanking the lord that this evening I’m not out there in a top hat shouting stories to strangers.
AlBarclay 