Sunday, 9 November 2008


I have had one of the strangest experiences of my life today, gentle reader.

After getting a bit more work done this afternoon – work that, though challenging, is very exhilarating and fills me with a real sense of achievement once done - I had an afternoon nap; something that I have developed a peculiar fondness for as I have aged.

Anyway, after a couple of hours I woke up – at 5:30.

The problem was I had completely forgotten that it was Sunday. In fact I assumed it was 5:30am on Monday. So, I rose, breakfasted and selected my clothes for work, pleased that I could get in early and tackle the tasks of the day.

At 6:30 a fellow blogger and friend sent me a message asking if I’d had a nice weekend and advising he had just opened a bottle of wine.

Of course, thinking it was 6:30 in the morning I was genuinely shocked and was really worried my friend had a drinking problem. When I replied that er... it was 6:30am, so ermmm... he, somewhat confused, asked me if I was in Britain or abroad or what? And at that point, after a mental gear change, I realised my mistake.

It is fortunate indeed that he contacted me when he did – or I would have been 14 hours early for work. As it was, though, I instead had an extra weekend evening. Tempus redux; a chance to live again.

So despite the fact I had had breakfast I made dinner, was a bit domestic, selected a nice merlot and settled in for an enjoyable evening.

It is a stormy night and the wind and the rain are driving against my window. The parts required to fix my boiler are only now undertaking their perilous journey across the Solar System so the apartment is a little chilly. In many ways it is ideal snuggling weather and I wish International were here to snuggle with me. Of course I am in a position where I can’t be with him every day and for the first time that made me feel a little sad. Tomorrow will be the only time this week we have planned together; next week it is three nights and one day – almost justifying the 50% share in him I currently have.

But for tonight I’m suffering a bit from loneliness. It could be worse; I could be suffering from the flu or gout or Licky End. Yes, I miss him. And in 48 hours I shall be missing him again… though in the meantime I fully intend to

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