I am sitting at home, thinking what to write about.
Outside it’s a grey, wet and miserable January day. As I write, it’s only the 10th; it feels like January has been with us for months.
I turn on my laptop and greeting me is a beautiful image of a Carribean beach. Thank you Google for this timely reminder of what paradise looks like, as the sleet starts to fall outdoors.
Christmas is just a memory. Although not for the house around the corner, who as at last night still had their Christmas lights shining brightly to all. This is either a public display of sheer denial, or there is one heck of a party going on in that house.
And if there is a party ongoing, drop me an invite but I will be knocking your door with my own selection of soft drinks. For the first time since I was, well, probably since being in primary school, I am a third of the way through ‘Dry January’.
Now, this is a concept that I have historically (and naively) dismissed as being a gimmick. Yes, rather ignorant of me, as I am loving it and firmly believe that, for me, this is not going to be a month-long challenge. Great sleep, lots of energy and money in the pocket.
The future my not be fully dry. Perhaps more slightly damp. But not soaking wet!
And every now and then, my liver sends me a little text message with the words ‘Thanks for this, you don’t know how much I appreciate it’. Love you and please, keep going x’.
No idea how my liver got my mobile number, but I do like its little random messages. I actually did have a dry spell a few years ago, totalling 18 months. And it was great. Although I avoided no-alcoholic beers; they’re not so great.
I turn on the radio, hoping for some respite from the gloom. Within minutes, all I hear about is death, destruction, wars, failed economy and people up to know good. The airwaves are as gloomy as the scenery outdoors…radio off.
Time to put the heating on. At least, according to our little meter, it doesn’t look like I will need to sell another kidney to pay for the winter heating bills, unlike last year.
But if I do need to put another kidney on the market, at least it will be much healthier than it was last year.
I have just emptied the washing machine, again. And the same thought circles my mind as it does regularly. Why do we need to wear so many clothes? Do you, like me, feel like you are constantly washing clothes?
Pairing up socks? And…looking for those missing socks? The conundrum of missing socks will go to my grave with me. How on earth can one take socks off, put them in the basket, move to the washing machine…then simply disappear? Nowhere, gone!
This puzzle is only bettered by the mystery of the missing shin guard. Note, singular. We never misplace them both. Never. Always just one.
I am convinced that shin guards, like socks, actually have a mind of their own and take great pleasure in playing tricks on me.
Unlike my gorgeous, beautiful and ever so kind liver. We are bonding like never before.
Until next time.
Photo by <a href=”https://stockcake.com/i/futuristic-liver-concept_385977_768744″>Stockcake</a>
