Day 49 – Just Dinner

Today was a hectic day at work, so tonight I do very little. It balances out the world in the most wonderful way.

I narrowly escaped a cycle class at the gym tonight on account of Holly (who is sticking around a little longer) cancelling on me, and then my work-day overflowing into the gym time slot. I am going to have to do something about the latter, because it has happened more than I care for. I think I get enough done during the workday that I don’t need to let it expand to fill available space at the edges.

Anyway, we have agreed to try for Cycle again next week.

Tonight was for dinner. For sausages and vegetables. For the apple-and-pear cider I bought on my way home.

On a side-note, Abbey was very put out by absent items she had put on our shopping list. I was talking to HR at work as they arrived and I glibly said they were to-do items that could wait. I shouldn’t have forgotten them altogether though. Alas, no carrots with dinner.

Cow-pattern Milka
Cow-pattern Milka

Chocolate makes everything better though, especially when it has cow-print on the block itself. Isn’t it odd how I can resist a drawer full of chocolate all day at work, and then when I get home I cannot help myself raiding the supplies?

And now, after concluding an episode of Hercule Poirot, there is nothing more for me to do but slowly and incrementally migrate towards bed.

Day 27 – Poirot & Pistachios

I am afraid I didn’t particularly feel like being interesting today. After a day at work filled with dozens of little defeats and victories, I felt nothing much more than to sit down on the lounge and do… nothing.

And I did very little more than that.

Dinner and a Snack
Dinner and a Snack

Dinner was a delicious combination of chicken, ham and pineapple on a little mountain of rice. And while we ate, we watched Hercule Poirot solve The Mystery of the Blue Train. The reveal was a little funny; in a nod to self-awareness, they commented on the usually drawn-out way in which Poirot draws out every possible suspect and then clears them, until finally revealing the criminal.

By that time I had well and truly moved on to the pistachios as I am wont to do.

No Pistachios for You!
No Pistachios for You!

It’s amazing how easily I can go through handfuls of them whilst my mind engages with the television. I’m not even going to check in yesterday’s post how bad all those pistachios were for me.

I’d rather not know.

I’ll “worry” again tomorrow.