That’s what I need. Something to plan, something to look forward to realistically.
We had a pleasant Christmas (following a slightly bumpy start) and undertook some light socialising to brighten the dodgy betwixt days at the end of December. We’ve just learned that one of these events may have resulted in a friend catching the virus, and the rest of us are now waiting nervously to see if we all succumb. We thought we were so careful – just four of us in a large cafe space with very few other punters, sitting at a table next to the endlessly opening outside door.
I’m not sure whether that is what is making me grumpy, but today I have been facing up to 2022 and I really don’t know what to think. Prospects are not enticing.
No big holiday planned.
No small holiday planned either, although there are a few ideas knocking around. Probably won’t need my passport.
No clear plan for any activities yet. Half thoughts have crossed my mind of maybe doing a course this year (but I don’t want anything with exams!) and actually pulling some of my random scribblings into something more coherent, more widely shared and even saleable. (Hahaha, but I do like earning money. Being paid on Christmas Eve for my recent Netflix antics was quite a buzz. – Hmm, maybe I’ll be a film star instead. Yeah yeah sure.)
A few theatre tickets are in the phone wallet, but I fear they may all be cancelled – or I’ll be isolating or something. There’s also a production at the Bridge Theatre for which I’ve not even bought tickets, and I’m supposed to go to every production they do. I can’t miss one, but somehow I don’t have the get-up-and-go to get up and buy tickets. Might have to be an impulse buy on a glass-half-full day. If I have one soon.
I’ve been reading up on medication overuse headaches (oh lord, I’m scraping the barrel here), and it seems that I really do have to swerve my triptan lifeline for at least a whole month. So that’s my January mapped out. Painfully. Really looking forward to that!
Mr J has found several boxes of my father’s old photos – or rather slides. These need to be digitised. He bought a scanner years ago which we promptly hid away somewhere. But it seems that this could be my lifeline for 2022 – a project to get all these old images into the Cloud (or step one, onto the old computer in the back room – let’s not get ahead of ourselves). It seems to take more than 10 minutes to scan and save just 4 transparencies. I reckon this might also take care of 2023.
Send help! I’m not sure that looking forward to Project Pix is enough.
If I’ve written a miserable pile of words, I like at least to end on a more positive note. I was about to use the cop-out one – “at least I’ve got a blog-post out of it. Haha.”
But then I realised that in fact I have achieved something even better earlier this evening. I worked out how to stop Metro.co.uk sending me those stupid alerts which pop up on my screen 100 times a day – and I actually stopped it. Of course, it was a matter of seconds to achieve and I immediately thought no more of it, but I now realise happily that I have not been interrupted whilst writing this blog with any Emmerdale or Eastenders revelations, or salacious gossip of any sort, AT ALL. It’s been annoying me for so long that it feels like a huge weight is lifted. Hurrah!
(That last bit’s an exaggeration for dramatic effect, but hey, it’s definitely cheered me up.)