Waiting

Waiting
Photo by Daniel Watson / Unsplash

I’m waiting for the new lawnmower to arrive, so I can begin to de-jumanjify the back garden. That’s a real word, right? It is now.

Let’s hope the lawnmower is straightforward to assemble. I’ve come to the conclusion that most Amazon reviews are written by utter morons that couldn’t assemble themselves if Tony Stark called. And yes, I bought a lawnmower from Amazon.

I’m listening to my now somewhat famous playlist on Spotify – the one assembled with the help of an old friend – the playlist that accompanied throughout the years travelling back and forth from Germany.

This might sounds ridiculous, but it often doesn’t occur to me to put any music on – I invariably sit in silence while at the computer. And yet I love music – or rather, music of a certain era. I’m full of contradictions.

Heart are currently playing “Alone”. Although I knew their music, I only really discovered them in recent years. I chanced upon their cover of “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” at a live concert twenty years ago on YouTube, and fell in love.

Somebody I shared my playlist with this morning commented that they tend to judge people by the music they like. I’m not sure if I do that – I tend to see the best in people – or rather, I filter that which I take notice of.

Anyway.

My coffee cup is empty. And we’re almost out of milk. What’s the betting the lawnmower arrives while I’m at the shop ? Because that’s the way the universe is hard-wired, isn’t it – if it can possibly pull the rug from beneath my feet in any way, shape or form, it will do so with glee.

And no, I didn’t watch “Glee”.

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