Isn't it wonderful that it's the weekend again? The week flew by and I don't know where the time went. It just disappeared in a the blink of an eye, or several of them, and now I get to relax in the luxury of two days of spare time. I will enjoy it very much. The only thing I have to do is make a trip to the tobacconist to replenish my supply of tobacco and to buy another lighter, because Tyke demolished one of them again the other night. That is just a short outing, though, and that's the only obligation I have, besides walking Tyke a couple of times a day.
I can't tell you what a relief it is to have no outside pressure on me at all and to really know that nothing is expected of me for two whole days. Subconsciously, during the week, I always live with the idea that there will be expectations made of me that I can't live up to and I don't have that on the weekends. They really are an enormous break for me. But then again, I'm sure you must all feel that way and I'm sure it is a universal feeling and the weekends must be a big break for everybody, even the people with the most "uncomplicated" lives.
I'm repeating myself, I'm sure I have written this down before.
I finished my novel yesterday afternoon while I was sitting in my armchair with a big pillow in my side to lean against. The ending was fantastic, but you really feel so sad, because you think that all the agony and pain and madness could have been avoided if the truth had been told at the very beginning. If there had not been this attempt at this huge cover up. It really shows a lot about human nature and not the prettiest sides of it either, but rather how we might behave under the hardest pressure and when we make assumptions based on what people might think of us and how much we let that bother us. Some barely to be forgiven acts are committed and you have to somehow come to grips with them. Or not and have them be unresolved in your own mind. The novel was Drowning Ruth by Cristina Schwartz.
I've now started reading Where The Heart Is by Billie Letts and it's a completely different novel with a lot of dark humor in it. I'm not sure if I should call it dark humor, because I have a tendency to take things seriously and someone else may call it light humor, but the main character finds herself in quite a pickle, though it is treated with a certain amount of lightness and gaiety, as much as that is possible. You most definitely feel compassion for her. There are good guys and bad guys, that much is clear. I'm only up to page 65, so I can't say too much about it yet. A lot needs to develop yet.
I've now made it a habit to sit in my armchair for a few hours every afternoon to read, because I don't read at night before I go to sleep anymore. It's rather comfortable and very often Tyke or Gandhi climbs on my lap. They do want to get as close as they can get. I have my glass of milk and my cigarettes and settle in and have a good old read and concentrate completely on the book. The world is at a standstill. At night I listen to the radio and last night I fell asleep listening to the commentary to a football game of the Netherlands playing against San Marino. I was asleep in the shortest amount of time because I was not that fascinated by it. It was a rather dull game and the Dutch had 90% ball possession and made all the goals. It was a little bit too easy.
It was cold in the bedroom last night because I still had the window open and I put on warm pajamas and socks and crawled way under the duvet to get warm. Tyke laid down almost on top of me. I must get him a pair of pajamas too.
It's foggy outside right now and 9C, but we're supposed to have sunshine today and 19C. It will be a nice fall day and tomorrow too. No rain anyway. Even I got tired of that.
I must take my medicines and get dressed. It's time to walk Tyke and breathe in the cold morning air.
Have a nice day!