Lying on the garden swing
Looking up at the deep blue, almost fluorescent New Zealand sky.
Sipping a rather pleasant iced tea with lemon, sugar and whisky, reading a favourite book on my ebook reader. Life is good. Sort of.
Listening to the tweets, shrieks and song of the native bird life, and the occasional yap from the little doggie and my
I slept in to 11:00am this morning. A deep and relaxing sleep, until my beloved woke me up.
This is what caused me to question my
We hadn't planned to go anywhere, or do anything special.
If the situation had been reversed, I certainly wouldn't have woken her up. I'd have respected her choice. Sleep harms no-one.
But it was not to be.
Oh well. the rest of the day was spent in pre-Christmas baking and washing-up, with some Christmas Card writing and present wrapping.
I've always understood that sending Christmas cards to distant friends and former neighbours is a good idea, but why send/give one to a colleague who is seen every working day,
It feels like:
"Hello, you may remember me"
"I'm the bloke who sets out the relief work everyday and who you have to call if you're sick or otherwise indisposed"
"Just in case you've forgotten me, here's a cheap and mass produced card expressing the sentiment of having a joyous celebration of a probably mythical incarnation of a religuous sytem I don't believe in."
"F*ck off and get pissed"
I mean, why bother?
Finished off with some sausages and beans for my tea, which I had to cook
Sometimes life tends to suck.
|Bet that hurt you pseudo-romantic bitch|