Showers

I've arrived here with a brain all of a mess, with nothing in particular to focus on, with a cup of tea I somehow forgot to put the teaspoon-and-a-half of sugar in but have been drinking it anyway because I simply can't be bothered going back to the kitchen.

I'm cold, so much so that I'm still shivering under three layers of clothing and a double duvet next to a radiator set to 22°C.

It's dark. The kind of "Winter's coming", four-in-the-afternoon dark where it's barely actually dark outside, but dull - the sun's on its way back under the horizon; a horizon blocked by the row of terraced house outside my window (which has the blinds shut, mind). I don't have the room light on, meaning that the only way I can see this keyboard as I type stuff on it is by crouching over it with screwed up eyes next to the fluorescent white currently projected from this monitor.

I need to pee, but I'm hellbent on finishing this first, even though I don't know where it's going or how long it will end up being. Incidentally, I just farted.

I have other work to be doing; work I should've been doing earlier in the week, or even late last week, but I haven't. Naturally you may think I've been leading an unbelievably interesting life in the time that's passed. I haven't. I've arsed about mostly, and when I haven't arsed about, I've been thinking of arsing about (is that how you spell "arsing", or does it have an 'e' in it?), and when I haven't been thinking of ars...thating about, I've been asleep, and when I haven't been any of the above, I've been so bored I've resorted to taking a shower because just sitting there makes me feel like I'm collecting dust, or germs, or procrastination mildew. I've been so bored I've showered an awful lot. I've had more showers this week than I have since April 2006... probably.

I'm currently down to one meal a day through current eating habits; two if you count a packet of instant noodles as a bona fide meal. I don't feel undernourished. I don't feel hungry at all. I could probably pass for anorexic if I didn't live so close to an onslaught of takeaways and kebab houses.

I keep thinking "there's got to be some story to this", but there isn't, and probably never will be. This is not a narrative. This is not a sharing of my opinion over a certain matter. This is an assortment of last minute, here-and-now observations I've decided to note down in a desperate attempt to force myself to fill this space up a bit more of a Wednesday.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off for a shower.