In preparation somewhat for the next few weeks, I made the conscious decision to not do anything today, and you know what? It was really hard. Aside from the usual routine of picking up after the children, repeatedly filling the washing machine, feeding animals, and stopping arguments before they start, I have been quietly reading webpages, and achieving very little.
I considered getting the new Moleskine notebook from my bag – the one I bought at the start of the year for a “Bullet Journal” – and didn’t. I will admit the whole “Bullet Journal” idea has kind of passed me by. I realised while looking at other people’s photographed pages that they actually had nothing to do all day – so spent hours illustrating their pages with wonderful representations of appointments to meet friends for coffee, go to Yoga sessions, go for walks, and other such aspirational activities. My bullet journal would end up looking like a circuit board every week – a circuit board designed by committee, with a love for spaghetti and tangled balls of wool.
At lunchtime my in-laws appeared for a visit to the local pub for lunch. I know we can’t really afford it, but kept my mouth shut. They brought birthday presents for me, which I have to admit were pretty awesome (hey – they were mostly from my Amazon wish list, so of course they were going to be awesome, right?).
I don’t think I listed the books I ordered with the gift card my parents sent through, did I.
- The Lonely City, by Olivia Laing
- The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway
- Tender is the Night, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
- Miss Peregrinne’s Home for Peculiar Children, by Ransom Riggs