Written by James Robinson on 19th Nov, 2005
Firstly apologies for my lack of postings. The trouble with spending all day working in front of this computer (I use the term “working” is a loose sense) is that at the end of it you don’t feel like sitting and blogging about it. Plus the fruits of this blogging would be so tedious that you would all be demanding the brief seconds of your life taken up in reading it be returned to you through some miraculous temporal refund policy.
Saturdays however provide the ideal solution. Originally I instigated the “no-work weekend” policy, whereby I would do the bare minimum of work required and have some of that much talked about “me time”. Sadly that policy ended up going out of the window as I spent the “me time” fretting about how much work I had to do, so it made more sense to just get on with it. I will however cling onto my Saturdays.
I seem to have fallen into something of a routine over the past few months, and a failure to stick to this due to another appointment (rare though these are) does provoke mild irritation and even sadness. Pathetic, huh?
Said routine consists of getting up about an hour later than normal (9am) and truddling (that’s a great word, use it today) down to the local Starbucks in Ealing. This does involve crossing the A406 at a set of traffic lights which changes once per fortnight, but what do I care, it’s Saturday, I have no reason to rush. Despite the cold it was a lovely morning, completely clear sky, spoiled only be the death-trap ice rink down the road.
Vat of vanilla latte and random pastry in hand, I can easily spend an hour reading the paper and watching the world go by. For some reason I insist on sitting outside, regardless of temperature. Partly this makes me feel less guilty about taking up a whole table to myself for far longer than is required to consume a cup of coffee, since nobody in their right mind wants to sit outside in this weather. So it’s me, and the odd smoker who can’t possibly go without for 20 minutes. Glorious.
Today I managed to get through the entire main section of the Guardian, which is probably a reflection on the lack of interesting news in it. I was however slightly alarmed to read the Lib Dems are changing their tax policies to make them slightly more voter friendly – I’ve always felt their more realistic attitude was a refreshing change from the other parties (especially the “let’s lop billions off YOUR tax bill” Tories). Anyway, let’s not go down that road. Intelligent political comment is not for a Saturday.
Sadly I then have to go shopping. Not fun shopping, food shopping. I did almost go into Burtons who had 20% of everything today, and considering my recent decision that I loathe most of my clothes I thought this a golden opportunity. But it was crowded and so I couldn’t be bothered…. and for the second time in this post, I shall say: Pathetic, huh?
Decision time: M&S or Morrisons. Every time I go to the latter I discover more reasons NOT to shop at Morrisons, so M&S it is. Which actually wasn’t too bad… once you’ve accepted that 50 grannies are going to get in your way and be generally slow, it’s fine.
Back home, and now I’m here writing this drivvle (that’s spelt wrong, but I don’t care). Written down it sounds incredibly tedious, but I spend my week looking forward to this Saturday morning ritual, so stuff it.
Not sure what to do with the rest of the day – continuing the exciting theme there is a stack of ironing begging to be done, so I might tackle that in front of the telly. Or maybe I’ll spend the afternoon reading the other 726 sections of the Saturday Guardian. Decisions decisions.
Congratulations, you’ve reached the end of my ramblings. Well done, have a cookie. Now go out and live your own life, because mine is barely enough for me so once shared I can’t imagine how unsatisfying it must be.