This is a guest post from the often incorrigible Sparky
The weekend is here and I am currently seeking sanctuary. Beloved has spent the best part of the week playing with fish tanks and I’m rapidly considering whether living in a desert would be so bad. Work is piling up, I’m behind in everything and my grey hairs are growing. And the cat keeps missing her tray and hitting the mop bucket – and nothing ruins your day than realising that Beloved hasn’t actually mopped the kitchen floor but has actually coated it in a thin layer of cat’s urine.
So I’m in full blown whine mode. There may be flouncing. There is certainly a danger of huffing. Pouting is certainly on the agenda.
It is therefore absolutely NECESSARY that I indulge, methinks. All right thinking people agree. The mobile is turned off, the land line ringer turned down.
So far breakfast has been a full English (and is there any comfort food in this world better than bacon?) with every trimming imaginable. And quite a few that shouldn’t be imagined for the arteries panic at the thought of them. Also, it was served around noon.
I’ve spent most of the day in the bath with a large (and now very empty) bottle of Baileys (with a hint of coffee no less. Gods this stuff should be banned as an illegal drug). And my extra fancy, ridiculously expensive percolator (which we all condemn beloved for buying, of course) is churning out extra rich fair-trade coffee to which I am adding double cream and Tia Maria.
Oh and it’s 6:30pm and I’m still not dressed. I don’t intend to change this state of affairs. I am also listening to my amazing music that you all failed to hail as the best thing ever last week (shame, shame on you all!)
I have a cake. A very big cake. With chocolate on it. I may or may not let Beloved have a sliver. A small sliver. Actually no, it’s mine. He has his fish.
A small part of me feels guilty for being so shamefully indulgent. I take this as a sign that I haven’t drunk enough yet and am opening the rum.
So, ‘fess up, what’s your utterly over the top self-indulgence? Is it lying in the bath until the water goes cold? Killing your arteries with bacon, or cuddles with cute furry animals?