I’m exhausted. Why? What have I been doing? Nothing much, it seems. I’ve mostly been sitting on a couch, trying to read. However, the couch was at my grandparents’. And my grandfather is an expert at dalmilling (Dalmilling: n. continually making smalltalk to someone who is trying to read. The Meaning of Liff, Adams and Lloyd). I wouldn’t mind him interrupting my reading if he actually wanted to talk. But he either just wants to tell me a tidbit of some sort or show me a photograph, either of which I will have heard or seen before. So I look up and respond appropriately, and then he goes quiet, or disappears completely, and I think, oh, well, back to my book, and then, just as I’m getting into it, there he is again. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits, I just find it tiring being around him for a whole weekend.
Music in the room: Underneath Your Clothes (Shakira – yes, still playing it. Hey, that’s kinda hot, isn’t it?)