The Weekend Arrives
Another week has passed. Another week just like the week before. The weekend ahead is just like last weekend. I may as well re-title my life “Groundhog” something-or-other. I guess that presumes my life had a title to begin with. Which it doesn't.
I'm sitting with a rather large glass of wine, a huge bag of chocolates, and a bag of doritos from the shop down the road. We had no such goodies in the house earliera special trip had to be made. I called our eldest daughter from her batcave before leaving the houseshe didn't sound impressed when I shouted her name, but changed tone miraculously when discovering that junk to eat would result from her keeping me company.
It's funny how even the prospect of chocolate dramatically changes the mood of teenage girls (or in this case, my sample of one person). I'll have to remember for next time she flips out over something innocuous.
I'm camped out at the end of the dining room table with the old Macbook. It's plugged into the mains because it would last about 20 seconds if unplugged. It's a 2008 vintage unibody Macbook, still running Snow Leopard (the last version of OS10 that didn't require a nuclear reactor to get out of bed).
While writing this, I'm half watching Graham Norton's TV chat show. Stephen Fry, Robert Downey Junior, and Robert Duvall are on. Stephen Fry managed to hugely offend Robert Downey Junior within moments of the beginning of the showstupid idiot. Now U2 are playingintroduced as “the biggest band in the world” yeah, rightbecause Apple forced their album on everybody with a damn iOS device. Idiots.
Cheerful. I must be cheerful. It doesn't do to rant about everything all the time.