My girlfriend had work commitments all day, so we had to get up at 8 to go for a brisk 3 mile run (we can't afford to miss training now with so little time until the half-marathon). It felt strange enough being up and about at this time of day, even if we hadn't been running around, but I was hopeful that it might lead to a full day of work.
But of course all the effort just exhausted me and the rest of the day passed in a bit of a moochy blur. I should have been researching golliwogs for the new series of Richard Herring's Objective, but instead I started researching which characters in Deadwood were based on real people (that's the good thing about my Jedward Deadwood idea as some people believe Jedward actually existed in real life). If I wasn't in the mood for work I could always have got on with tidying up my office and gathering electronic equipment (the lovely people at
WERM are coming to pick it all up tomorrow), but for most of the afternoon I couldn't even be bothered to do that.
I did manage to have a bath eventually, during which I did a fart. And I concluded that farting in the bath is one of those pleasures in life that never gets old. It's funny when you're 2 and it's funny when you're 102 (provided you are not concerned about the danger of follow through - or maybe that makes the successfully executed bath fart even funnier due to the risk). Most things become boring or tiresome over a life time, but the bath fart (ironically enough) seems to stay fresh forever. I think your whole family could just have been killed in a horrific accident and you had a bath that night and farted, it would still make you laugh. It transcends all tragedies and all cultural boundaries (in lands where they have no baths then any underwater guff would qualify). An aquatic trump unites as all, yet weirdly it's funniest when you're alone. The muted sound of the fart and then the ascending bubbles... I could work my whole life and never come up with anything as consistently amusing as that. I am amazed anyone ever pays for comedy when you can just sit at home on your own in some water and be funnier than the headliner at Live at the Apollo. You should be charging people to come and see you. Yet this is the golden stuff that we give away for free.
It's also a little bit magic because it makes something usually invisible visible. You can actually see your farts, for a few moments at least. You're like Harry Potter and Tommy Cooper rolled into one. Plus you're getting clean. Provided you can avoid the follow through.
So at least I created something amusing today. Even if it was of no substance.
After that I did buck up my ideas a bit, but spent the evening tidying up my office, which is getting close to being sorted out now. There's an incredible amount of junk up there but the electronics aside I am not keen to throw it away. I have a massive box of CDs in their boxes. Is there any point in holding on to them? I will never need them again and yet it seems wrong to dump them. Even more pointless is the massive box of videos I've still got. I threw out some of the things that I had recorded off the telly, but it seems wrong to dispose of the shop bought ones. Even though I will surely never watch them again. I envy the new generation of kids who will not be burdened down by physical ownership. They will have no affection towards books, CDs or films as objects and will be able to keep their collections inside their pocket. Oh brave, new world.
But now the office is nearly tidy I will have no excuse to avoid working on the stuff I am meant to be doing. Which doesn't mean that I will do anything. Just that I will have to think of a different displacement activity.
