Every year my wife and kids go to stay with her mother in Ireland for 10 days. It’s bliss. I miss them, of course, but it allows me my guilty pleasures that I can’t have when she’s here. I’m not talking cocaine and hookers, more insignificant, petty pleasures.
This week:
I’ve been looking at the internet while eating.
I’ve eaten most meals out of a bowl even though a plate would’ve been sufficient.
I haven’t stacked the dishwasher in any logical order.
The dog’s sleeping on the bed.
The bike’s in the house for fettling.
The TV hasn’t gone on once, aside from watching American Flyers yesterday.
I bought white bread.
As I say, not rock and roll, but I feel I’m ‘geting away’ with stuff.
Yours??