This is a day of conscious idleness. This is a rest day. This is a day of watching sport, doing light house work and packing for the holiday to come next Tuesday. As soon as my bath bombs arrive from Amazon I shall indulge in a warm bath while my eldest daughter and partner have gone to town to shop and run errands. Its days like this are made for doing ones nails, updating the food log and general indulgent faffing around. This is exactly what I am doing. The most exacting thing I’ve done is stick a new sticker on the garden recycling bin. I did after all have to go outside to do that so I need to rest. It is what I shall do for the rest of the day. It means switching off the brain, having no clever, or otherwise, thoughts and making no attempt at any intellectual effort whatsoever. If my old reptilian brain cannot handle it, it will not get paid attention to or done. This is me dropping the mic. Of course the cancer won’t be so neither will Rocket.