Sorted out my wardrobe door with an impact driver. It’s a temporary fix, probably should have done it weeks ago, there’s nothing like having a girlfriend over. She just made me clear up my laundry. Tomorrow she’s not working and I’ll be in prep mode for Christmas. Should be fine. My processes might be scrutinised but they’ve worked for me thus far, they can be explained or adapted as necessary.
Picked her up again from the tube. That’s habit forming. Twenty years or so and I’ve walked it every time. Made good friends with the 170 bus. Spoiling her rotten. Largely I’m post bath and in my slacks, but she’s worked 73 hours since last Tuesday. She ain’t paid by the hour. She’s knackered. I can get off my lazy bum and pick her up from the station even if I don’t want to.
Brian and I purchased Christmas today. No vacherin which is a great disappointment, but nobody has it. Last year Waitrose did a big push so now nobody get it for blood or money. Fuckers. We bought the rest of it. I got home shaking from having forgotten food, and consumed an entire packet of quails eggs with celery salt. We have three more. I stopped shaking.
The flat is full of food. We tried to be restrained but it wasn’t quite as successful as it might have been. We have stuff. Much stuff. Tomorrow I’ll be a one man crusade for blinis and vacherin. We will be ok without, but let’s see what’s possible.
I’m knackered, the tired of the idle. A man who has just tidied a bit, gone shopping, consumed a dozen tiny eggs and chatted to a few tiefling over his Steam Deck.
Lou is home, home is warm, I’m looking forward to another night of weird dreams and catintheface. In keeping with her black cat look, she chooses her moment well, only interrupting the dream when it goes weird.
Bed feels really like the right place to be. Christmas approacheth. The light is returning…
AlBarclay 