I sat at work today for a few hours in just my underwear (black), a see-through top and long black boots. It sounds way more interesting than it was. I was fortunate enough to be working alone on the first floor and could keep the door closed while I dried my rain-soaked clothes on the radiators. It wasn’t raining when I left the house and it wasn’t raining when I arrived at work but somewhere along the half-hour walk it chucked it down. It happens. To me too often.

I think perhaps I should look into some waterproof trousers for those less clement looking days but the trouble is the whole sorry business is forgotten by the time I’ve dried out and it seems such a mundane thing to spend money on. Ebay maybe.

I’m still disabled by extreme lethargy. Although to be fair I did work for a long portion of the day and without a great deal in the way of sustenance so that may well be accounting for the slight feeling of tiredness. But I always feel an evening in should be an opportunity to get on with all the little things I want to do. Sewing, drawing, writing, washing up, rowing. Evenings in are so rare that I store all these little want-to’s up and then can’t manage it all and feel disappointed. I could of course just try and learn to relax and chill…..

The girlie’s current favourite advert was just on, the one for the National Lottery where the house lights up to a merry tune. The ‘light’ houses are springing up all over the place now that we are actually embroiled in December although I did see the first one just about the end of November. Even though I find it disturbing that so much energy is wasted on a few Christmas lights it still manages to be a draw and a fascination.

I was telling a colleague about the ‘good old days’ when our favourite department store had a sleigh ride to Santa’s grotto. A proper moving up and down contraption and they made it feel like we left the store and really went to a magic place. Now that was worth paying for. These plastic gingerbread houses with a hot sweaty Santa and a sack full of plastic tat are so not worth a coin but I guess I’m not a child now and I know it’s not real.

I am still enough of a child at heart though to be enchanted – a little too easily at times admittedly but I think I prefer being a bit short on cynicism at times, it wouldn’t hurt more people to stand and gaze at the beauty of the sky on an winter’s afternoon.