Quavers

Light and Curly

I couldn’t sleep last night.

So many things going around in my head, I had to get up early and write a list, and I mean early - 4.55 a.m. to be precise.

In fact it was the night before, I have lost a day, must have been Monday night, because now it’s Wednesday and bed time again; this time I won’t have the same issue because I have compartmentalised all those thoughts, scrawled them down in various notebooks, coloured coded them, highlighted them, ticked them off, expanded upon the, forgotten them, laughed at them.

Work, specifically dogfood but not exclusively, also 35mm film, savoury snacks, what food to eat, what food not to eat, food I had eaten, the idea of manual labour, wardrobe categorisation, designing and building a house after moving out of the village; wishing I had been an architect, the list is endless.

Creep downstairs, fire up the machine, get out the notebooks, numerous double espresso coffees before the relief of the alarm I should have been asleep for at 6.15 a.m.

Even after retiring early to bed, is it the certain knowledge of an early call that persuades us sleep won’t be coming any time soon, despite our best efforts?

The day was a wreck.

Exhaustion set in before even getting to the workplace, going through the motions, ticking some things off, missing mostly in the margins, grumbling and grunting through half open eyes, I couldn’t see the wood for the trees.

Powering through, the British way; work done and an unsteady drive home, weekly men’s yoga group was the rest that I craved; Tuesday night, 7.00 p.m. It’s not to be cancelled, however tired you feel; as always the class proved to be just what I needed, avoiding the regulation pint and chat afterwards, too tired to recount tales that can now wait for the weekend and cheerier moods.

Thoughts of meals out of the window, dropped back from yoga, still only eight o’clock but ready for bed, minesweeping the kitchen surfaces, too tired for anything.

That’s when I saw them.

Probably the highlight of the day.

Not meant for me but nobody was looking, who would know?

The light and curly cheese flavoured potato snack of champion architects, photographers, yogis and manual labouring lifestyle gurus.

The simplest of things.

And that is why they tasted so good.

You Can Do Anything

Goodnight.