The LTLP is away for a couple of days.
Whilst I’ve spent my evening reheating a ready-meal, watching University Challenge (125 points today), eking out the one remaining bottle of Weston’s cider and refreshing my site stats every two minutes, she’s been stuck in a hotel room with nothing but satellite TV and a minibar.
I pity her sad existence.
Being a leading expert in the field of interesting things, she goes away a lot. So I’m on my own in the cottage, in the freezing cold (no central heating and windows open all day) and with the main living area uninhabitable.
Outside it’s as dark as dark could be. No street lights, no neon glow. No cars passing – not for the last twenty minutes, anyway.
I think I can probably be excused a bit of introspection.
I started this blog for a number of reasons.
First and foremost, I wanted to start writing again. And it seemed like this sort of framework would give me the kick up the arse I needed. So I set myself a few rules (two of which I’ve already broken in this post) and got on with it.
Secondly, other people were doing it and I felt left out.
And thirdly, I was genuinely concerned that I was turning into a cross between Mr Pooter and a scary obsessive-compulsive freak-boy with tightwad tendencies.
The toothpaste has almost run out. So the tube is battered and worn, the end folded up as far and as tightly as it will possibly go.
There is a new tube of toothpaste ready and waiting.
However, earlier I spent a good deal of time on the old tube. I managed to get a few grammes out by laying it on the edge of the bath and putting my whole weight on it. Then I probed the bristles of the toothbrush down the end of the opening, fishing for any more that might be hidden away. At the end of the process I had perhaps three-quarters of the volume of toothpaste needed for a satisfactory brushing.
Then I put the old tube back in the mug. Not in the bin.
It’s behaviour like this that is concerning me.
I’m going to London later today. There will be people there, and discourse. I hope I do not frighten them with my insular ways. Working on my own in the house – I’ve lost touch with civilisation.
Slowly, but inexorably, I am turning into an old git.