Its Monday the 2nd of January, another Bank Holiday. I’m awake and drinking coffee in bed at 9 o’clock. Being also talented and able to multitask I book a Tesco slot and do the shopping for the coming week before checking my social media. Its a bacon sandwich for breakfast with the family around the table and conversation. It was during this that I learn, or was reminded by my family that my sister is going into hospital today for two or three days for some ongoing tests and treatment for the heart condition that put her in hospital in the autumn. It reminds me that today is the anniversary of my mothers death some 14 years ago. I’m not sure why that came to mind so readily but it did. At the moment family and family history seems to be important. It leaves me feeling reflective about my own future. I sense this maybe in part the consequences of trying to overcome this damn cold that has left me feeling turgidly listless.
Post breakfast, which is really almost lunch, I drive my partner and I to the gym. I’m not in a fit condition to train but I need to get to of the house and drink different coffee. While my partner goes off to exercise I settle down with a large black americano and the laptop to start the blog. I note that very few people have viewed the blog over the last couple of days and put it down to post Christmas and New Year malaise. People out there in the Real World have lives that are full and busy and mine, I realise, has become somewhat restricted. Having struggled for energy recently it has meant that I’ve done less than I might have intended, either that or I am just becoming idle, although it appears that no one told my brain. Bizarrely I went to sleep last night thinking about the difference between Faith and Belief. No idea why, but I obviously did not find it intriguing enough to stay awake. I am though still thinking about my friends suggestion to change the name of the blog. Having drafted what I can of the blog I write a reply to a friends letter that arrived recently.
I drive my partner and myself home after another coffee together and as soon as we get home we are off out to the village shop to get vegetables for tonight’s meal. Already it is getting dark and it feels as if the day has already gone as the temperature drops. I walk over to the post box and send the letter I wrote at the gym, then I am back on the sofa reading Moomin and the Golden Leaf and Moomin, The Complete Tove Jansson Comic Strip. A friend once alerted me to the criticism that has been made about the later Moomin stories written by other people but keeping the art work of Tove Jansson. The Golden Leaf is an example of a non Tove Jansson authored story and I have to say I found it lacking in the depth and subtlety that the originals have. I immediately read the first story in the Complete Comic Strip after the Golden Leaf and found that there really is a difference in the quality of thought that has gone into the story. As I write this I realise that I am in danger of writing a really obsessive analysis of this in a similar vein as is to be found in American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis, where he writes intricate details of such things as the difference between Armani and Armani Emporium goods or the quality of business cards. I shall leave Moomin literary criticism to those whose field it is.
I return to drafting the blog and move onto the evening meal after which I try to contain my excitement that the Mighty Brentford are two nil up against Liverpool at half time. I’m cold and vaguely distracted this evening. There are probably a number of contributing factors but like all things it will only become clear, if it does, over time. I am aware that tomorrow is the day I shall put all the Christmas decorations away in the loft and recycle the actual Christmas tree. If I manage that I aim to gently train for the first time this year. The Mighty Brentford actually beat Liverpool 3-1 to send me to bed a happy person. Clearly I am easily pleased.
