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 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.
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.