It’s day 6 of the blog every day thing but I have nothing to write about except what I had for lunch, which was leek and potato soup again and I’ve decided that I don’t care if no one cares what I had for lunch because I don’t have anything else to blog about except for yesterday’s traumatic experience when I was halfway to the station in the morning and realised that I’d forgotten my mobile which was traumatic enough by itself when I realised that I’d have no way of a) checking my personal email; and even more importantly b) updating my Facebook status, but this halfway to the station trauma was nowhere near as traumatic as the halfway through the morning trauma when I was struck dumb by the terror that was WHAT IF I GET HOME AND THERE’S NO MESSAGES?
Research has (probably, but I’m making this up) proven that this paranoia stems from the olden days when answering machines were first introduced and if you didn’t get home to find the little flashing red light on your phone signifying that someone somewhere wanted to contact you (in the days before the “please replace the handset, and try again” man) then you’d spend the rest of the evening in a deep paranoia that nobody loved you (instead of the modern day paranoia that only the “please replace the handset, and try again” man loves you).
I get home and I go upstairs and rescue the phone from the bed where the cat has probably spent all day updating Catbook with “looey is eating cat food and drinking out of the toilet bowl” and lo! there’s the little envelope icon (not to be confused with a gay icon) signifying that someone wanted to contact me and it’s not even only from O2 telling me I haven’t topped up in a while but a message via Facebook from someone I haven’t seen for 22 years. Thank you Facebook for saving me from my paranoia.
Lunch: Leek and potato soup
Dinner: Butternut squash pasta sauce with penne
Mobiles forgotten yesterday: 1
Messages on forgotten mobile: 1