It being Sunday there is nothing much to do today. There is no wish to plan anything and there is no real wish to go anywhere. A short visit to the son in his bedroom finds him happily working away at his computer doing something which is of no real import. Perhaps it is important to him.
The kitchen and the living room are a disaster area. Just messy and untidy with all kinds of stuff resting where it had last been used.
There is long drawn out thunder outside, and the steady hiss of the rain. There is no lightning to be seen anywhere, it is probably far off.
Misery is settling in again, but this is just due to a lack of planning. Definitely, if more things were undertaken, there would be less time for misery.
The single glass of beer in the place on the street yesterday was pleasant. There were people there, but they were all quiet-spoken, and it was possible to look at the cars go by.
The glass itself was avvery expensive drink, perhaps the publicans are overpricing.
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