I do like Mondays

One of the best parts of this not-working-for-a-living business is the newly discovered joy of Monday mornings. That wonderful, slow dawning realisation upon awakening that I don't have to rush off to work, and I don't have to concern myself with anybody's responsibilities except my own. It's a very nice feeling, and doesn't seem to be losing it's ability to lift my spirits.

But it's Monday all the same, and there's shopping to be done. Now some of the things about being around in the daytime are not so pleasurable. The queue in the post office for one. And the fact that I always end up standing behind somebody in the queue who clearly isn't spending their pension on any form of sanitation. After ten minutes today I gave up. Some old codger at the front of the line (of old codgers) trying to get to grips with chip and pin - it was pitiful and I could bear it no longer. In the supermarket, bored pensioners wander around aimlessly with their trolleys containing nothing except for the occasional tin of spam or some baked beans. Wherever I went I swear I was being followed by an overweight guy, pushing his mother in a wheelchair with the trolley in front. They both reeked of piss and I nearly vomited over the cakes and fancies. I bought too many heavy things, forgetting I would have to carry it (see how green I am that I refuse to take the car to the supermarket and I use and re-use my own carrier bags) home. By the time I put it all down, I found I was blessed with the ability to drag my knuckles along the floor from a standing position. Now I know how the Mitchell brothers feel.

While I got on with researching articles and books for my essay on changing tastes in Victorian art, our fine plumber arrived with his toolkit bulging. Out with the old power-shower (so powerful it had the ability to electrocute you with a 'bang' so loud the windows rattled) and in with the new Mira shower. Thank gawd for that. Donations gratefully received.

I spent so long researching databases for relevant articles on the Internet, my brain turned to cauliflower cheese and my eyeballs fell out, which was inconvenient.