It’s Sunday. A lot has happened since I last wrote.
On Wednesday, I went to work. On Thursday, I did the same. Friday, I called in sick.
Wasn’t actually sick. Just couldn’t be fucked. Checked Slack at 11 to see if anyone had said anything. They hadn’t, which is either good or bad. Or neither.
Probably have their own shit going on and don’t care.
Went out for a walk. Didn’t have a plan. Turned right at the bakery for a change. There’s a new WatchHouse. Wanky nonsense.
Carried on past a man arguing with a lamp post. Crossed the road to avoid a man with a clipboard.
It was overcast because Britain, but not too cold. I ended up at the park. There were geese everywhere. One of them hissed at me, which felt excessive. I wasn’t that close.
Chose a bench near the pond and watched a child drop little toy soldiers into it like he was sending them to war. His mum stayed on her phone as we all watched them drift away forever.
Stayed a while. Didn’t check the time. Didn’t check Slack again. Took a different route back home. Made it feel like I did more with the day.
Dinner was a sandwich. The bread was stale. I toasted it, so it didn’t matter. Went to bed early. Slept OK.
Had a couple of drinks at home yesterday, Saturday. Picked out a film on Netflix. Can’t remember what it was called. Saw most of it, fell asleep before the end.
Woke up on the sofa with a sore head. Checked my Medium views. Awful. Seems like the only successful posts are garbage posts about writing successful posts. Wrote one.
Ordered a takeaway and finished the movie. It wrapped up nicely, but think I’d clicked the wrong one. The assassin became a bookseller and married Meg Ryan. Still, it worked.
Tomorrow, I will go to work again. And on Tuesday. And Wednesday.
next: 9. Today, I Said Nothing at Work
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Geese are excessive. I agree.