Where was I? oh yes, maybe when I retire....
I want, so much, to give some level of attention to and participate in the few interests that I have but I am finding that, with time, increasingly beyond my capabilities. It's almost as though I'm looking through binoculars in reverse. I'm losing touch. Interest in almost anything is becoming, to say the least, fickle and intermittent. Work is all consuming and my weekend offers little respite.
On Saturday mornings, as some of will you know, I work nights, the treadmill doesn't end there. Armed with backpack and tote bag I head out to Stugely for my weekly shopping, how/when did I ever need so much? I sometimes wonder but it goes and by the following weekend it's all gone. It's mainly to do with work though. Day to day living and the packed lunch.
Saturday afternoons, where once I would have stayed awake, perused the football betting markets, maybe had a flutter, and sat in on WF, having had barely taken the top off the big brown bottle of cheapo Cider, my constant weekend companion, I retire, oh dear that word again, fall in a heap on to my bed and that, as they say, is that.
Through out the whole of Sundays my mind/everything is an agreeable blur. The Cider flows and I savour every mouthful. I read some, snack on yesterday's leftovers and before I've had time shake off the baggage of the previous week the prospect of another Monday raises it's ugly head and off I go again. Already I'm making a list of things I need to put on next Saturday's shopping list.