I should have counted sheep
Left work early to get to college in time. Arrived uncharacteristically on time only to find that my class had been cancelled due to a power cut.
Rang TA on his moby - no answer. Rang TA at home - no answer. Tried to assess likelihood that TA was in the local supermarket picking up delicious repast for dinner. Rushed around the aisles looking for a tall, skinny man in a suit carrying an umbrella, grabbed two bottles of wine, a bottle of sherry, some milk and some cheese - random items, things I knew TA wouldn't buy if he was in the supermarket. Found a short queue but then realised that I'd pushed in front of a hesitant OAP (the second time this has happened at this particular shop in as many weeks). Apologised, let frail-looking old lady in ahead of me. Her shopping: basmati rice, prawns, steak and some vegetables. Frail old lady: 'mumble, mumble, mumble, gall bladder, mumble, no, mumble, fat'. Me: 'Oh, poor you.' FOL: [looking at my alcohol-and-dairy-product-laden conveyor belt] 'mumble, mumble, wine, mumble, drink, mumble, mumble, nice, mumble, sad.' Me: 'Really? Yes. Hmm.' I said goodbye to the FOL and left the shop feeling guilty.
Beat TA home, picked up mail. Letter from college complaining about my lack of attendendance. My mood was not improved!
TA had not picked up delicious repast and both of us were stumped as to what to cook and - for the first time ever - I was not hungry. TA improvised while I retired to bed with a book. Suitably inspired, I shaped my eyebrows (which are usually a bit Dennis Healy), did girly maintenance tasks and lounged in a pair of manky joggers and a fleece feeling somewhat decadent (decadence is a state of mind and, for me, often descends when I have unexpected free time). After a tiny dinner I alternated between reading and chores - laundry, dishwasher, sorting through my wardrobe - while trying to act French and louche.
Left housemate C and TA to their own devices: that new playstation game where you're a gangster eating burgers, working out and shooting people, and toiling over a new website, respectively.
Went to bed early. Couldn't sleep. TA came to bed at nearly midnight and fell asleep immediately. I ground my teeth in frustration, poked him until he woke up and complained about the unfairness. Tossed and turned, sighed and generally tried to sleep in ways that guarantee sleep will not occur. Then, to my neverending shame, the following thought occurred to me...
We need more storage space under the sink. It's a shame all the cleaning products take up so much space. Wait a minute, Mum keeps all her polish, cream cleaner, bleach, dusters and cloths in a satchel hanging up in the kitchen cupboard, the when she or Dad do housework they take the satchel round the house with them. Why don't we do that? I wonder if TA will let me repurpose one of his satchels? Hmmm...
And so I eventually drifted off into a troubled sleep, punctuated with dreams where TA told me that I was obese.