Week 37, 2026: Holy crow
Walks around my neighbourhood in the mornings. The guy who works at my local meat locker has a kind face and says I shouldn’t bother with their fancy hot honey. They’ve got much cheaper honey at the Chinese supermarket, he says. And the woman at the thrift store with the massive National Lampoon collection told me that eBay will have the right battery for my old camera. I said I’ll look into it and didn’t mention that I’m banned from eBay. I bought a mug instead as a christening gift for my new kettle. I’m taking sips from it as I type.
My bedroom has been turned into a multi-purpose room: salon, office, bedroom. Dividing a room up into several rooms can render it bigger. The desk area is for computer work that allows me to buy nice things like the aforementioned kettle and the big white fluffy rug area is for computer work that brings me zero dollars but does bring me joy. Joy like watching Taskmaster and listening to Disc 2 of the album Oh Golly / Yes Lord. Joy like a touch of net-surfing: Downey Wrote That, the Unfinished Harauld Hughes, Cheeseface the dog. The bed area is for sleeping. I’m still figuring out where to read. This is part of why I haven’t been reading.
I went clothes-shopping on the weekend, even though I knew it may be unwise to do this with company. It’s good practice, I suppose, to double-check if something still feels bad because such experiments can render surprising results. She was trying on clothes and I went to look at CDs and mugs. It was nice when we took breaks to digest our labour (our is doing its own labour here) with fried foods. We were sitting in a Northern Irish pub when she pointed out the framed picture of Queen Lizzie (RIP) in confusion. Protestants, I explained. I'll have to visit someday.