7/1/2016

I woke up today and it was grey and raining, perfect staying in bed weather, and wished I had my Mum in the next room to curl up with like I used to in the not yet sunlit mornings.

In my need to finish my 16-book reading list (I had 8 books and 7 days to complete it on Sunday) my days have largely been spent curled up in the arm chair in Grandma's lounge, with some snack on hand, hair in a bun and almost always in my pajamas and a dressing gown. Lunch is usually leftovers from dinner or a canned soup and bread (aka the most delicious pillowy softness EVER which I bought from Bury's market place yesterday) I haven't washed my hair for days but then again I haven't been doing anything physical, apart from the occasional headstand.

Today, floating to my reading place absent-mindedly, I sat down and felt the very soft pillow MOVE and escape, and then an arrow of grey streak across the floor. I had sat on the cat by accident!

When my mind very often drifts while I read, I usually create lists in my head space. This was one I created yesterday.

Why Grandma and I would be really good house mates:

1) I like cooking and she doesn't.

2) She showers in the morning and I shower at night.

3) She likes engaging in the same strange things I do, like wildly lip syncing along to 'Tonight' from West side story or 'I could've danced all night' from My fair lady.

4) I help her to remember/find critical things like 'pay the milkman' and 'where's my cheque book/hat/blue card/magnifying glass?'

5) We're both porridge eaters.

6) She is my #goals for bed time, since I want to start sleeping at about 10pm but usually end up sleeping at 11pm.

7) I help her read small print.

8) She helps me remember to give thanks for the small things, like a working oven even when the power in the rest of the house is pretty much kaput.

9) I make her go on small-time adventures to Bury or trying a new spread combination on her brioche or a face mask

10) And she makes me slow down when I'm going at a mental 896 km/h

The cat keeps giving me reproachful looks. And refuses to come back down to the lounge because now I am pretty much 'Undesirable #1'.