Today has been about getting present from sundry relatives. I had a package in the mail from my parents. Now that both are in Sweden again, they jointly sent a parcel through the mail. Auntie didn’t send mail, she came over and gave it to me in person. Oh, and another thing is that both my mother and Auntie told me to be “careful” tomorrow.
This makes me wonder about my reputation among my relatives. Am I expected to go crazy and party until I drop? I thought I had lived such a quiet and bourgeoise existence that the pensioner’s club in the area were fingering an early membership invitation for us two. We could go and do a bit of bowls when the weather becomes a bit nicer, and we’d receive free winter fuel. Or something. But partying like it’s 1999? I’m not sure I’ve ever given off such a vibe. I don’t even like getting drunk.
My mother told me to be careful when I rang to tell her that the parcel had arrived, and that its contents weren’t broken or torn. When I asked her, sarcastically, whether she expected me to get drunk, throw off all my clothes, and run down the street, she even suggested that “all young men are a bit wild, aren’t they?” I almost said something misogynist in response to that.
My birthday isn’t until tomorrow. I still don’t know what Mark is up to, except that something somewhere is booked. He is very tight-lipped. However, his bandage is off now, and he has a wicked looking scar on his hand. At least, whatever he has planned, he won’t execute the plan injured. I may however limp a little, which is another argument against us not being careful. We’re too lazy to not be careful. Not being careful takes effort.
I would probably make for a terrible adventurer. I would spend all my time sitting in comfort in a hotel room instead of discovering new things and having those adventures that I would be supposed to have. Not much of Stanley Livingston in this scrawny frame, I’m afraid. If NASA would ever consider hiring a literary minded English bloke for a mission to Mars, they’d be wise to skip my name when they got to that part of the rolls.
Anyway, this is my 999th post. Next one will be the thousandth. I think I’ll save that for tomorrow, or the day after if I fail to stay relatively sober. I always tell myself to be careful with drink, because as I said I don’t really like to get drunk. I don’t always succeed, however. But sobriety is always a goal! And I like goals!