Dirty Habits

It was my intention to title this piece "I Don't Do Habits" but it occurred to me that I have far too many habits. Postponing jobs being one, eating when not hungry is another. My latest habit is not smoking. The recent stresses I have endured have caused my old addiction to waken from its uneasy slumber and it rages and craves at inopportune moments. I then go off down a reflective dead end daydreaming about the idea of casually walking into a little newsagent shop and picking up a paper and then, kind of carelessly, I say: "and a pack of B&H please." I won't ... well I hope I won't, but the distraction is annoying and that's putting it mildly.

Yesterday I promised myself that I would do something useful and productive. Of all the jobs outstanding, bringing the washing machine into operation was the most pressing because the events of last week had gotten in the way of laundry which was already overdue ... because of procrastination. My new bungalow is very compact but it still boasts a separate laundry; well it's a 5 by 3 foot cupboard by the back door but I got a handyman to fit some taps, a waste pipe and power point. Well the movers put the machine in there and then I had it buried as I stood around peering at the the seemingly endless boxes of stuff being brought in and directing where it should go. Too much was unidentifiable and was sent to the laundry cubby ....

By mid afternoon I had cleared the space and sorted out the machine. I also added a couple of extra shelves which are not exactly level but only I will be looking at so who cares ... I can't help it if the drill always seemed to skate off a little before it bit into the brick. Besides half the men I know are as useless, if not more so, at the simple domestic construction jobs. That was one fault not possessed by EP which isn't to say much because gilding doesn't disguise the underlying shape.

It was also a hot day yesterday and by the time I was ready to start sorting out the stuff that had accumulated on the paved area outside the sun had come around and was quietly baking every square inch. So I reviewed the situation and trawled my mind's basement for reasons to procrastinate. I found what I needed. Mads dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. Well although I am undoubtedly mad I neither dog nor man ... I'll settle for mad bitch. Either way I could get out of the heat. I got.

How is possible for 37 channels of TV to be so deficient of choice? One station was showing back to back episodes of Diagnosis Murder ... and I sat watching that for 20 minutes hoping to see Dick Van Dyke break into some mockney Meary Powppens or do a quick bit of tap ... he didn't. Realising that I could care a lot less concerning the identity of the murderer I went back outside where the sun had moved around behind the large tree that might be sycamore but isn't. (Identifying it is a task to do when I unpack the box of books that contains my battered flora.) Meanwhile I decided that it was just too hot for serious work. It didn't actually take long to tidy up and put the syuff away and when I had finished I spent a happy ten minutes under the shower getting the caked on brick dust and sweat washed away. Brick dust turns out to be a effective exfoliant scrub although I don't recomment it.

Now it is August the early evening shadows are longer and after a hot day, if there is anything resembling a breeze a walk is great way to cool off and wind down. I also felt that it was time to explore the south-western fringes of my hinterland. There's a large undulating park one street away to the west. The south-west bound road which borders the park has a small church, a community centre, a school and — half a mile away — there is a useful convenience store selling most of life's essentials. I found my suspicions it had been a hot day confirmed because the chiller cabinets were looking a little thin on stock at 7pm. I took this to be a good sign because the sheleves were otherwise well-stocked and I hate it when I buy a drink from a chiller only to find that it hasn't been in the chiller long enough to get properly cold. This guy probably refills the shelves when he closes up for the night.

I picked up a few cans of Guinness because there is nothing so nice as a long tall glass of the dark stout at the end of a hot day. I haven't actually got down to unpacking the long tall glasses but it tasted just as good from a shorter, fatter one.

There is still no sign of Little Mad. She has now been missing for 48 hours so if she were to turn up, either back here or at the old address then the next 24 hours is the most likely time. My old neighbours have been alerted and I shall be passing there tomorrow and I will check-up to see if there is any news.

Right. Time I emptied the washing machine and put it outside to dry ....