I was going to write something about the Jim Acosta story, but I only got a few notes down before work, and then I was at work, and now it’s 2am and I’m just home and I’m buggered if I’m doing anything more than a simple paragraph here and then knocking off to bed. Maybe tomorrow.
Everything is good. Stye has gone right down, got the day off tomorrow, drinking a mug of Lady Grey right now; life is sweet. I mean, it could be better, yes, but it could always be better. When could it not be better? It always could! So might as well not worry about that. And so, accepting that it could be better, what have we got? A pretty sweet mug of Lady Grey, aforementioned, and that other stuff that I already said. Got... two pretty good lungs right here. A pumpy heart. Fingernails. They’re important for… cleaning out the dirt from under your other fingernails. That’s a simple pleasure in this world, isn’t it? Seeing some dirt under your fingernail and getting in there and getting it out. Wonderful. I’ve got eyes to see this wonderful and elegant mechanical keyboard, which is so wonderful to type upon. Ergonomic management keyboard. Oh yeah. We’ve got Peep Show, every episode of every series, on 4OD or whatever they’re calling it now. An advert every six seconds, and always the same one, for bladdy Fosters, mate, but still. Umm… I’ve got.... a family who love me. Friends who I barely make an effort with because I’m always bogged down in my own shit, but who are nevertheless always there when I need them. Flatmates who bring me tea in bed with chunks of grapefruit in, and buy me 80% cocoa dark chocolate from the shops. And a girlfriend who knows exactly how ridiculous and bizarre I secretly am (not so secretly) at like every single moment of the day, and yet still draws me cute cartoons and sends me pictures of her snuggling with her dog when she’s not with me.
And did I mention that I’ve got the day off tomorrow.
Life could be better. But it’s also pretty good.
No comments:
Post a Comment