Lazing On A Sunday

I got up at 1300 today with nary a comment from the old person I live with. I knew it was going to be a good day right then.



I drank a small pot of fresh coffee, watched the news headlines and blogged. I smoked a cigarette and cleaned the downstairs half of the house (not at the same time). I took time out of my busy schedule to help my dad put a dead motorbike into storage. I walked the back route to the grocery store and recognized all the dips and bumps I used to jump on my B.M.X. bike more than twenty years ago.

I cast my mind back to last Sunday and roast dinner for seven at The Lion & Lobster in Brighton. Joeri and Ric played chess and I was a fag hag. We failed a crossword puzzle for several hours but I finished a Sudoku for the first time. We planned the next day's train journey to the nth degree and I read an nth of the Uncut magazines The Mod saved for me while I was A.W.O.L. Our evening consisted of four different types of whiskey, four Nepalese curries and a drunk man who wanted to hug us all in the street.

Now I remember: this is what weekends are all about!