The last few days have been a blur. After visiting friends on Friday night for drinks and curry, I spent most of Saturday washing clothes, tidying the house, and running errands. I had been invited to visit another friend’s house for drinks in the evening, and almost didn’t go – but then changed my mind at the last minute.
It’s SO easy to not go out sometimes – to stay in, watch rubbish movies, or disappear down internet rabbit holes. After receiving a text message from another friend – asking if I was going – I thought “what the hell”, jumped in the shower, had a shave, found some clean clothes, and wandered out into the evening air.
I suppose the evening was really a lesson in taking chances – the old Bilbo Baggins line comes to mind, about taking a step outside your front door. I had a wonderful evening – the best in quite some time. I somehow ended up staying on with a few close friends into the early hours – curled up on couches, reminiscing, drinking, telling stories, laughing, and talking about all manner of esoteric subjects. I received a text message at about 1am from my other half – asking if I was ok. I read it to the group, and we all looked around wide-eyed – where had the last six hours gone ?
What followed was a Christmas miracle of sorts – I didn’t have a hangover this morning. I’m still not entirely sure how I escaped it either – having drunk at least two bottles of wine during the evening. The clear head was something of a blessing too – by lunchtime we found ourselves in one of the bigger local supermarkets doing the final grocery shop before Christmas. We now have a rather spectacular collection of alcoholic beverages stacked in the middle of the kitchen – waiting for visitors to help us disappear.
Tomorrow I’m working from home. I’ll hole myself up in the study with the work laptop, and mobile phone – working on pre-sales and research projects. With a little luck the phone won’t ring, and I won’t therefore have to deal with anything of consequence. Who on earth works on Christmas Eve anyway ?
Oh – before I forget – Kaspar is doing well – better than any of us could have predicted. The little black cat that hid in his bed for the first few days has begun venturing out into rooms full of people for fusses. It’s all very much on his terms – as evidenced by the scratches on my hand when he unexpectedly switched into attack mode earlier this evening – but every day brings a little more confidence, a little more bravery, and a little more affection from him.
Anyway. Time to go put the kettle on, and open a box of mince pies.