I don’t consider myself a morning person but, truth be told, once I’m up and about I’m fine, it’s just that I don’t do it that often at the weekend. I am a champion at eeking out the last precious moments of cosy-bedness.
So it was with no small degree of wonder that I found myself sitting in the car at 8.55am this morning, waiting to get into the local
dump waste disposal and recycling centre. By 9.05am I was heading for Glasgow, and as I sit here at 11.42am I have successfully bought several new shirts, two pairs of trousers, washed the car and had my haircut.
A more typical Saturday morning would normally find me being cajoled into getting my arse off the sofa to get dressed.
Of course all this has changed since the arrival of the small fuzzy black thing that is currently shredding our wallpaper and running around like a mad thing. I’m hoping it’s just a ‘phase’ as he’s been very good up to now, but the last couple of days he’s been particularly destructive. Hmmmm.
Anyway, more things to get done before we head through to Dumbarton to celebrate the 21st birthday of our nephew.
No, wait, that can’t be right. If he’s 21 then I’m…