There are Sundays when you get up and get going, finally start on those things that have been lieing undone for the past three years. There are Sundays when you get up and get going, pull on the boots and head for the woods and the embrace of the elements. Very, very rarely there are Sundays when you get up and say "Let's drive to the Cotswolds/ Isle ofWight/ Devon/ Dover and onto France"
Today is one of the others, the waste of life which have been 98% of all my adult Sundays. Missed opportunities sacrificed to the God of sloth, thinking of what I might, should or could be doing,what I might start doing in a few minutes, and almost always, never, ever gets done. Being part of a growing, minorly disfunctional family, whereby any positive idea is almost certain to be vetoed by at least one member, reduces the odds of anything memorable happening to the infintesimal. So we all watch telly.
The day is brightened up in mid afternoon with the return of Dan from Barcelona. He is genuinely excited by his trip, and it's great to see his enthusiasm. It takes him less than 5 minutes to settle down at the pc in his customary position, and from which he scarcely moves until it is time for bed.
I cook dinner, a nice turkey joint, and then it's back to yet more telly. I wonder what I'd have found to waste my life on had I been born before the telly and the internet came along.
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