Yesterday was one of those weird zombie-like days where I stay up but I’m not half-awake, and just lounge around waiting for proper bed-time. The room in London had thin windows, and I didn’t sleep properly much.
I can sort of will myself to do stuff even if I’m tired, and Saturday was like that, but the plans for Sunday fell apart when both of us just spent the entire day being lazy and indolent. When we came home yesterday, we just spent it in the zombie-zone and caught up with rest.
This usually has one penalty. I crawl to bed so early that I get up far too early, so at five am my greens popped open, and almost like Mark always does I bounced out of bed ready to take on this Tuesday.
And this Tuesday will be filled with… um… Abbie is coming over so I’ll hear what he’s been up to lately. He’s been observing Ramadan, so I’m going to tease him with some food. When I asked him why he did this to himself, because he’s as god-fearing as yours truly, which means not at all, he just turned the question back: You observe Christmas, don’t you?
We are all creatures of contradictions aren’t we? We rail against the place religion has in the world, and then just go ahead and do the religious things anyway. He does Ramadan, and I do Christmas, because it’s easier that way, and there are definite perks to selling out our loudly stated principles.
We’ll head over to Ben later, after Abbie arrive, and then for once it’s going to be the three of us. Like in old times, back in College. We can pretend that nothing has changed, and that things are as they used to be, and that we’re still inseparable like the three musketeers. This evening Mark drives to Wiltshire to fetch the dogs. I’ve missed the little blighters.