I was supposed to have travelled with The Boy Child to York yesterday for an overnight stay.
After a particularly trying Thursday evening, I asked The Brainy One if he could go in my place.
I wasn't expecting him to say yes.
But he did.
Which left me with a window of 24 hours.
With nothing planned.
I spent last evening on the sofa, with my feet up and,
as the evening wore on, under the blanket.
I had several large mugs of tea, too many peanut M&M's
and several episodes of House of Cards.
Rock 'n' roll, I tell you, rock 'n' roll.
This morning, while The Boy Child was enjoying breakfast in an hotel,
I was in the park with the pooch.
At the time of writing, the boys are due home any time now ...
and that has been the sum total of my day.
Walking the dog in the park.
I'm not counting the two loads of laundry, the visit to the supermarket
or the conversation with the plumber.
Those things can happen on any given day.
Twenty four hours and I spent them mostly on House of Cards.
Or on sleep.
I can't decide if I've wasted those twenty four hours or not.