Slightly dysphoric

by SpittleRattle

Write something for today. Capture the general malaise.

I chattered with Great Tits in the backyard, and put up a new lamp shade. I tinkered ineffectively with my gas boiler, dreaming of hot, steaming water, from the taps. I marked Case Studies and added up the marks. Washed my clothes, hung them to dry. Ate fried and fattening foods with my parents, spent quality time with my grandson, and my two girls. Sigh. Generations of us under one roof. I wanted to be somewhere else, to tell the truth. Pent up tension in front of a TV the size of the World. Mind numbing.

I petted the cat, and my Dad humoured my humble opinions about my plumbing.

I inserted tables, charts, sums and percentages in Office. I populated the emptiness with content.

I listened back to my newly recorded song, trying to feel smug. I’m not the best judge but, mostly, wondered what I must have been On! I asked my 11 year old if she’d like to contribute backing vocals. She has a sweet voice, and she was local. I imagined that if she was on it I might find a reason to like it, but she refused to have anything to do with it, and went back to her X-Box.

Bless her cotton-rich socks.

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