Monday/Tuesday — I wake up feeling rotten on Monday. Time to take a sick day. (The fact that it’s officially the first day of winter is just a coincidence.) I worry for a while about catching up at the end of the week, but you know what? I’m ill and I’m entitled to look after myself once in a while.
So I spend the day watching crappy movies, getting annoyed that the Kindle cover I bought off eBay is in fact the size of a bleeding iPad, and later providing a running commentary on the Irish Apprentice with Bee (if there’s one thing that show has taught me, it’s to never take a job working for Bill Cullen).
I don’t sleep well Monday night: bad indigestion and weird abdominal pains when I try to lie on my side. Another day of bad movies and timeshifted TV is required.
Wednesday — Very early start for administrivia in town, plus shopping for a new winter coat. My first choice is a bust – it’s a bargain but the sizes are messed up, far too tight around the shoulders – so on to M&S where I find one that’s just right, though it costs four times as much. I suppose it’s an investment.
Suddenly not feeling so good after that; my head is in a vice. I’m glad to get home out of the cold, though not so glad to find out broadband connection is dropping for long periods… or is it the router getting confused? Will have to keep an eye on that.
Thursday — An impromptu holiday from the day job. And no internet again. And another lightbulb has blown, which requires a trip to the Blanchardstown Centre in the gloom and rain. At least my new coat keeps me warm.
Do you know how hard it is to find those small screw-in lightbulbs? Very hard, let me tell you. Anyway, after half an hour in Atlantic I finally emerge with a selection and head for home. It’s raining and I don’t feel like walking in that so I take a bus to Ashtown to catch another bus that actually goes my way. But I end up drenched anyway when some [EXPLETIVES DELETED] flies through the bus lane at Ashtown roundabout and sends a curtain of gutter water splashing over myself and two old ladies under the bus shelter.
It’s not a good day.
Friday — Net connection issues continue in the morning, but no matter – I’ve got movies to watch. To be specific, a Jason Statham double bill: Crank followed by Crank: High Voltage. If you want to see action cinema at its most deranged, they come highly recommended.
Early night for a change; I’m asleep before half past 10. That first episode of The Walking Dead will have to wait.
Saturday — Awake early with more abdominal pains. I hope this isn’t becoming a thing. Bee helps with a hot water bottle (thanks!) and I move to my comfy office chair to watch another movie. That’s also been a thing for me this week, but a much more positive one. This morning it’s the Ozploitation man-against-nature classic Long Weekend, which gets four stars from me.
Formula 1 qualifying in the afternoon is the usual boring formula until the dying moments of the final session, when Hulkenberg comes out of nowhere to take pole position. How the hell did that happen?! Shame the rugby after didn’t keep up that level of excitement. In fact it was pretty crap. I’m glad we didn’t go – not that we could have afforded the extortionate ticket prices (from the looks of all the empty seats, we weren’t the only ones).
Sunday — Noon is the perfect time to watch The Walking Dead, mostly because it’s as far away from night as you can get at this time of year, and daylight is what’s needed after all that creepiness. It’s got the makings of a great series, even if the opener is a bit derivative of 28 Days Later.
The daylight disappears during the afternoon’s grand prix, which lulls me to sleep for a while. For a post-race perk-me-up I stick on Silly Little Game, an amiable documentary about the origins of fantasy baseball, which is the perfect Sunday evening viewing for a pair of geeks like us. Indeed, it gives us the idea to try our own version of fantasy Formula 1 when the 2011 season starts; it might make the boring races a bit more interesting.
Great Migrations on Nat Geo to cap off the evening. The kind of thing that makes us wish we had HD. But only fleetingly, mind.