Well, it is always good to be an optimist about life, and so here I am on the taxi rank again.
If I manage to earn the same as last night then I will be positively rolling in cash, I will have thirty quid to spend on anything I like, and a trip to the magnificent portals of Marks and Spencer will be looming large.
I could even buy daffodils, not that I have hoovered yet, and so do not have any freshly-spring-like bedrooms in which to put them. I keep noticing what a good idea it would be to get the hoover out, but so far it seems that the inspiration has melted away every time I get to the hoover cupboard downstairs.
Hoovering is on my list of increasingly-urgent tasks, along with dusting, ironing and watering the conservatory. I have not done a single one of these since we came home on Sunday evening and I am beginning to feel the earliest inconvenient pangs of guilt.
I have not even got round to making a list.
I have, however, taken the suitcase up to the attic. This was a colossal achievement since even with all of the washing removed, it was still massively heavy, and it was three flights of stairs. I am pleased with that achievement, because the task of unpacking it and storing everything carefully away with mothballs and tissue paper has now vanished completely out of my head. I can ignore the suitcase thoroughly now that I will not see it again for ages.
I told Mark about all of this when he called this morning, and he suggested reassuringly that I did not do any of it, but spent the afternoon writing my story. I liked this idea, because my desk is one of my favourite places in the whole house, having a magnificent virtual window on the world in my computer so that I can see what Donald Trump is doing, and a slightly overgrown-with-ivy actual window on the world, so that I can see what the neighbours are doing.
Hence I made myself a cup of mouth-blistering chai and retired upstairs.
It took a while before I got to the story, because my college had sent a lot of very exciting pictures of our graduation, and so of course those had to be examined and the memories revisited. I had barely finished frowning at them and wondering if my ears might be slightly lopsided, when I started to think I might be feeling chilly.
I went downstairs and added another jersey and some thick socks.
After that I started on my story.
I had not been plodding through it for very long before I started to think that I might be hungry, and began wondering about chocolate. I am trying very hard not to eat chocolate at the moment because my body refuses to invest it in anything useful like warm feet, but merely stores it all on my bottom for my retirement.
I knew I could not start eating chocolate, although obviously I have got some, hidden from myself underneath the sofa, in case of an emergency. In any case, it was less than half an hour since I had eaten an enormous bowl of porridge, as a late mid-afternoon breakfast, and there was no reason whatsoever I ought to be hungry.
I considered this absently for a little while, before suddenly realising that I was achieving nothing whatsoever, and my eyes were starting to close.
It dawned on me in an inspirational flash that the reason I was cold, hungry and dopey was that actually I was longing to be asleep.
I resolved the situation in less than a minute, and crawled into bed, where I fell asleep instantly.
I set the alarm for an hour, but when it went off I accidentally turned it off, and when I woke up again the world had gone dark, and it was time to go to work.
Apart from the inevitable guilt at such a shocking demonstration of idleness, I can tell you that I felt absolutely brilliant.
I had forgotten that I had left the washing outside in the yard, and had to dash about frantically dragging it off the line and trying not to be late for work. Somehow I managed it, because I was here on the taxi rank by a quarter to seven, refreshed and energetic and feeling better than I have felt for days. I could even imagine opening the hoover cupboard, probably some day in the very near future.
All this getting certified must have tired me out.
Also I am pleased to announce that this evening I have made £18.70.
Marks and Spencer here I come.
