Sitting here watching an old James Bond movie for the sheer hell of it while faffing online and chatting with my fab partner.
It’s been a decent kind of day – lots of things done which is basically my measure of ‘good’ when I’m on my own and it’s a weekday. Â I have, however, kept going into the evening which is not according to plan. Certainly I’ve gotten a lot of neat things happening on a website I look after, but after a while it is gilding the lily; certainly things I’ve done tonight could have just as easily been done tomorrow.
After a while the internet pales into boredom – news sites hold no interest anymore other than odd articles of vague interest, other sites once held in high regard for interesting content have fallen into the less interesting and everywhere I browse these days seems terribly dull. I should just go to bed, but await… what?
It’s 10pm and well into time I should be either horizontal or close to it, sleeping or nodding off. I have sated an unexpected appetite with a toasted cheese sandwich with some tomato sauce and cracked pepper; hardly the snackfood of the healthy but certainly it has stopped the pangs of hunger.
Really, I should go to bed. I should grab my hot water bottle and retire to the West wing, or more accurately, the other side of the loungeroom wall. What is holding me here other than a hot processor and a heater, and my cat who dozes in front of the fire while his ears grow more and more pink from heat exposure.
I think it’s time to retire. This decision having been made now becomes hard to implement because of the pull of the computer screen upon which these words are being typed; a white display inside which the words unfold in an order being determined by the movement of fingers and the passing time.
This night must draw to a close however. I must go to bed. To sleep, perchance to suffer insomnia at 4am. Or perhaps not.