Fridays should be easy, and Good Friday, during which nothing happens should be easier.
I woke up after a bad night’s sleep, and realised it was just gone six am. Then I made the mistake of checking Twitter, which was alight with the news that Garry Shandling, American comic had died. This then led me to Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, with Jerry Seinfeld and effectively ended any chance that I would lie in.
My husband took the dogs for a walk as I was still resting my knee and I managed to waste even more of the morning doing other things on the Internet.
Someone had rebelled in our little suburb. Someone had decided enough was enough and if the pub was not going to open and the bottle shop would remain closed, then they would open their doors and anyone could come in. It has been a while since my husband and I had ventured out to a do in this way, but we did and had a lovely afternoon, with nice people living ordinary lives chatting about nothing much. Occasionally, one of the men would get on to the topic and go off on Donald Trump, but for the most part, we stuck with safe topics like family and the awful humid weather.
I have not had a drink for a while and so now, four hours later, all I want to do, frankly, is sleep – no doubt to be woken up with a raging thirst in three hours’ time. I stopped drinking around six weeks ago and everytime I do this and then fall off the wagon, I wonder why.
Anyway, the day is done. I have had a hot cross bun, some wine, which I did not need. My husband has walked the dogs twice and they are now asleep and frankly, even though I had a load of stuff to write this morning, I have nothing to say now. I didn’t start something about a crow, but it will have to wait and frankly is nothing that has not been said before.