5th days of the working week, if you count the day of travel on Sunday. Which I am. Even if I used it walking arund taking photos and drinking beer. That was work, not at home anyway.
What I'm trying to say is this week seems to have dragged on and on this week, and doubly so with three hours in the hospital waiting room, and another two and a half in the doctor's waiting room.
Being a Thursday there are bins to put out, early in case the truck comes early. And make breakfast. And stare at the fog that has been here for two whole days now. We have not been able to see beyond the end of the garden in that time now.And I have meetings, three meetings from 8 through to eleven. Deep, deep joy.
At least I wasn't staring out the window longing to be out in the sunshine, as there wasn't any.
I have lunch, coffee to keep awake, but the day is turning out better than hoped.
The day progresses, the fog lingers and is cold enough to put the heating back on. The cats are more active, meaning not bothering me when I'm working, but they do bring me gifts, Mulder now not bothing to announce that he is coming in with a "gift", just dropping the Dunnock under my chair then demanding a reward.
I give Mulder a reward anyway, and he is happy. But then he's a happy and handsome chap, and wouldn't hurt a fly. Unless you're a bird or mouse.
The day ends, and I make potato bread to go with the insalata that we will dine on like kings. And queens. Jools returns home from work, and so we have one more day until the weekend.
We watch The Sky at Night, but Jools is snoozing before the end and goes to bed. I try to be interested in Arsenal's European game, but I can't be bothered so go upstairs to read at nine. I am joined by Scully who is only too happy to go to bed.
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