Weeknote S2 E9
It’s bank holiday Monday and I’m writing this weeknote in advance, to be published on Friday. Is this speculative fiction?
Right now I’m scared about how my newly-planted plants are going to deal with the frosty weather this week. I’ll try to protect them, but my attempts will be thwarted by a bastard fox trampling all over my carefully-constructed assemblage of upturned pots and sheets. (One actually shat on a Bergenia the other day. Gardening in London is war).
Liverpool play Real Madrid on Tuesday evening. Liverpool will have most of the ball, play it around in front of Madrid for 80 minutes to no real effect, then one of either team will score a goal undeservedly from nothing. Prediction: 1-0 or 0-1.
At some point, maybe Wednesday afternoon, I’ll have a brief moment of abject despair provoked by looking out of the window, looking into the days ahead, and seeing nothing but the same flat tone of middle grey.
Around that time I might try and log back into my Instagram account after attempting to delete it last week. I hope it’s not as easy as just logging in again. If it is as easy as that, I’ll look at overpriced menswear for a while and delete my account again.
We’re getting some new blinds installed in our living room on Thursday. This will be the highlight of the week. They’re those shutter blinds that all middle class London homes with street-facing windows have. I discovered recently that these blinds are known as ‘plantation shutters’, which is fucking grim. The shutters industry probably wants to have a look at this.
I’m expecting another news story about someone making a basic error in their job that causes an absolute shitstorm. It might not be setting an alleged sex offender loose or blocking a major international shipping route, but something. Everyone is completely fried.
Someone in a position of extreme power will make an equally calamitous decision and no-one will notice or care.
At work I have what looks like a fairly meeting-free week. If this lasts, it should mean I manage to finish off some things I’ve been working on for months. That would be nice.
Towards the end of the week I’ll start contacting friends to make plans for the long-awaited-week-commencing-12-April. A few pints on a cold bench outside a pub. Some will reply, some won’t. Some will have forgotten who I am. I will try to forgive them.