January

I have zero energy and less enthusiasm. I’m not miserable, nor do I have any weirdy seasonal bluesy thing: I just want to curl up on the sofa with a book, and maybe have a nap. I do not want to shop for food (though I have done so), put it away (though I will, soon), cook, clean or do any of my usual jobs. I don’t much want to do the school run; I certainly don’t want to exercise. I can’t be bothered visiting my allotment and the spring bulbs are still in bags on top of the microwave. The house is gradually getting more and more of a tip (and we’ve a babysitter on Saturday so I must get off my bum before then) and we have no clean socks. I cannot face going out with the old boys tonight: even less so since plan A – walking to the pub with Peter and Mrs Peter – has been put off in favour of plan B – waiting for C to get home from Germany then going down later on my own. People reckon I must go, it will do me good. I expect they are right

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 7th, 2009 at 3:27 pm and is filed under modern life is rubbish, wittering. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.