48 Hours

home aloneHa Lay Loo Ya!

Much as I adore The Teenager (and he is totes cute), it’s always a little bit lovely to have the house all to myself when he goes to London for the weekend.

The house. To myself. For 48 delicious hours. I always have such great plans. This weekend I will mostly:

  • Put a face pack and hair mask on.
  • Eat a £10 meal deal all on my own (shame I ate the starter and dessert yesterday. Oops).
  • Wear a kimono after a long, long shower without being laughed at.
  • Talk to the plants, especially Bertie.
  • Go to bed early with a pile of magazines and a new book. 
  • Desperately catch up on Book Club book I have yet to read. We meet on Monday, gah.
  • Handwrite a pile of cards to my dear friends I have shamefully neglected recently.
  • Listen to music really, really loud on my headphones without worrying that The Teenager is yelling at me from upstairs.

In reality, I will do none of these things. I’m kidding myself. I will mostly be:

  • Making inroads into my teetering pile of ironing.
  • Organising new house insurance. ‘Citing.
  • Cleaning the microwave. And maybe the oven if I’m feeling adventurous.
  • Changing the cat litter tray.
  • Putting clean sheets on the bed.
  • Talking to the plants.
  • Scrubbing the grout in the bathroom with an old toothbrush (strangely therapeutic).

Why do I do this? I should be out, painting the town a slightly murky, dusky pink.

I could be theatering, cinemaring, bar hopping, gadding about town. I guess the grass is always greener. When I would like to go out, I can’t. When I can’t, I’m stunned by inertia (aka laziness).

I will no doubt end up in bed at 7pm, shattered by working all week and being called ‘Half Shift’ at regular intervals. My cunning plan to learn Japanese over the weekend will be shelved. I will also not be teaching myself macrame. Or decoupage. Or glass painting.

I will stick to one of my first points though. I will blast out ‘I Am Woman’, shortly followed by ‘Those Were The Days My Friend’. And if I’m feeling particularly maudlin, you can’t beat a bit of Velvet Underground.

Don’t panic. It’s not a pity party. It’s a ‘can’t be bothered’ party…

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6 thoughts on “48 Hours

  1. Sally says:

    On the subject of cleaning grout. I have recently come into possession of a Lakeland mould buster spray for bathrooms. O.M.G. Spray, leave and hose. Removes everything hat Cillit Bang et al couldn’t . For the first time in months those pesky corners round the shower door are pure brilliant white. Bathroom does smell bit like a swimming pool though. Depressing how little things like that make me so excited nowadays. Lol

    • stumbling in flats says:

      I must buy some right now!!! Anything to get rid of that grotty black stuff. Don’t worry, I too am ridiculously excited by things like that. When I washed my shower curtain in the machine, I couldn’t help gazing at how clean it looked. And I bought a bread-maker thingie.

  2. Nancy says:

    I just made a must do list in short form. Now you shouldn’t punish yourself with mondain work work work. Stick some fun or relaxing things in there. Order delivery if you have it in your area. Movie an popcorn and sleep in livingroom lol. Have a party and invite friends and have them bring goodies lol.
    When I lived in Vegas long ago my friends and I would have cleaning parties and each week was at one of our homes. Wine and music and everyone cleaning ironing and dancing and eating and having fun. Now THAT was a blast!!

    • stumbling in flats says:

      that is a FABULOUS idea!! A cleaning party!! I love it. Must raise idea with friends.
      I’m off to work in a moment but I am treating myself to a big bar of chocolate and a new magazine later before tackling that ironing. It’s staring at me and increases in size every day. Meh.

  3. 48 hours to do nothing! 😀

    • stumbling in flats says:

      I know!!! But I succumbed. I changed the duvets. And talked to Bertie. Haven’t finished book club book yet though. Sigh.

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