I meant to study. Really. I did.
2003-02-03 at 8:23 a.m.

 

Oh dear. Monday again. Mondays just aren't for me. Really. They confuse me.

Still, my new course got off to a flying start this weekend. And yes, that is a fairly heavy layer of sarcasm you can detect. I got up on Saturday, sat down with my books and did an hours work. All well and good. Then I got distracted when Mr Me got up, and we started talking about chinese food, which led into going to the market to buy chinese stuff from the chinese stall. Which led to wandering around the market looking at all the shiny fruit, veg, eggs, fish, meat etc. and eventually wandering home.

Then I decided to have a bath and then carry on with the studying, because the studying was good. As I jumped into the bath, Mr Me announce that our rugby team was on the Sky TV. Now, we no longer have the Sky TV at home, so we were forced to go to the pub to watch the rugby. The rugby team did lose, which led to a need to get drunk on the part of me and Mr Me. This was accomplished with a great deal of success at 9pm by all concerned. We wibbled home, via the off-licence to get some happy making red wine. Oh and via the Chinese takeaway, as by that time all thought of actually cooking Chinese food had gone up in flames, or been dampened by alcohol. Well, whatever. So we ate spring rolls and tucked ourselves up in bed.

And that, my friends, is how not to study on a Saturday.

Yesterday I was Chinatown bound. We ate dim-sum from a stall, Mr Me bought a noisy drum, we listened to the loudest fireworks I've ever heard in my life. Saw some lion dancing. We bought a wok, chopsticks, funky chinese bowls, spoons and little sauce dishes. And... some funky sauces and some char-sui dumplings and some of the best pork I've ever seen. Last night I cooked pork and pineapple in my new wok, and made noodles and steamed the dumplings. It rocked.

And that, my friends, is how not to study on a Sunday.

More on this infrequent series on how to avoid responsibility soon.