I don’t have to go to work tomorrow. Some holiday or other. La la la. This means:
- I can have another glass of wine. Or, I could if we had any more wine but because I didn’t have time to forward plan, we don’t. Plus my first glass of wine was huge.
- I don’t have to go to bed at 9.30pm but can have a proper, non-commuting grown up bedtime. Maybe 10pm.
- My travel coffee cup is still in the car, and defiantly unwashed. Because I won’t be using it in the morning.
- It doesn’t matter that I’ve run out of snack bars, because I will not be eating breakfast in the car.
- I will switch off my alarm clock. Although I fully intend to be up by 8am to watch Wimbledon.
- I don’t have to figure out now what I will be wearing tomorrow. Because I will be wearing pyjamas until the tennis is over.
- I don’t have to worry about the downstairs neighbour coming home at midnight with 14 of his mates and deciding that is an excellent time to light a bonfire and enjoy the summer evening by talking VERY LOUDLY outside our bedroom window.
- I won’t switch my Blackberry on until Monday.
- I don’t have to find a book to read on the train tomorrow.
- By the time I go to work on Monday I may have forgotten about today’s horrendous meeting, or will at least find it amusing rather than saying ‘That woman is a triple plated, five star bitch and This. Means. War’ (although, for the record, she is and it does).
- Tomorrow night I will still have a whole weekend ahead of me in which to continue doing sweet fuck all
Up to Northampton again, where we visited bookshops and records shops and came home with quite a haul. I am blameless in all this, because no one in their right minds would take me to a used bookstore and expect me to come out empty-handed. Thus I am a mere twig on the seas of book fate.
- Lady Audley’s Secret – Mary Elizabeth Braddon (Dorothy’s fault)
- The Faerie Queene – Edmund Spenser (Emily’s fault)
- Frost in May – Antonia White (read this whole quartet many years ago and have forgotten everything about it; this purchase is also Dorothy’s fault, I think)
- Howard’s End – E M Forster (read this a few times years ago but one can’t have too much Forster)
- Dionysus Writes: The Invention of Theatre in Ancient Greece – Jennifer Wise (handed to me by my husband who knows I will read jump at anything with ‘Dionysus’ in the title because of my low-burning ambition to get back to studying).
But I did resist Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, because even I was shocked at the size of the pb edition. I would have to spend a couple of months at the gym paying far more attention to the weights to be able to carry that on the train. Have any of you lot read it?
And from the record store:
Walking back to Clarksville – Page and Plant
Manic Nirvana – Robert Plant
Discography – The Pet Shop Boys
and whatever the new Springsteen album is called. From which it may be discerned that most of the music I like is at least 20 years old. I mentioned this fact to my sister-in-law while in the shop and a lank-haired youth nearby said ‘Don’t worry, all the music I like is 20 years old too.’ Alas, I fear he fails to realise the difference it makes when the music was both released and attained classic status in your own lifetime.
So, we’re off for the weekend. We are taking the Jeep of Power and our bikes up to Vermont where we are staying at the foot of the Green Mountains and near Mooscaloosa (sp?) National Park. Plans include: visiting the local bookstore; visiting antique and art shops; a bit of cycling, possibly near Lake Champlain but definitely somewhere with reasonable amounts of flatness; and a trip to Fort Ticonderoga, to make our military history buff friends jealous/proud.
Add to that the fact that I have only one chapter and some cleanup work to do on the evil manuscript, and that my friend Dave arrives next week, and the future’s so bright, I have to wear shades.
(Source that quote and I will send you a present.)