Home Alone

Wednesday evening finds me sitting at a desk in the study, listening to Spotify, and wondering how much of today's thoughts to empty into the keyboard. I'm accompanied by a can that was filled with cider until a few minutes ago, and a teddy bear propped on the corner of the desk, gazing into the room with the same silly grin he's always had.

Saturday Morning in the Book Shop

The day began with the clock radio bursting into life, and filling the room with utter dross. I squinted my eyes open and watched the seconds and minutes pass on the bedside clock, wondering how long I might lay there before somebody might consider there was something wrong with me. Minutes? Hours? I'm guessing we'll never find out, because the curious instinct to "not waste the weekend" kicked in, and carried me downstairs for a shower.

Medication, Banned Books, and Conspiracy Theories

Today I am "working" from home. In reality, I called the client this morning and informed them that the likelihood of me getting much done today was pretty slim. I'm looking after Miss 17 - after two weeks fighting tonsillitis, going through one round of antibiotics, and still being sick, I've turned my focus almost completely on her. She's taking tablets every two hours now, and I'm forcing her to keep drinking, and eating anything I can get her to - despite her less than enthusiastic responses to my constant reminders and encouragement.

Half an Hour

I have half an hour left until I get to switch my computer off, climb aboard my trusty bicycle, and pedal my way back towards town. I'm already wondering what ass-hattery will be thrown at me during the journey - this morning was the third in a row where cars have pulled out in front of me with no indication what-so-ever regarding what they were about to do. Apparently I'm invisible.