Traditional Saturday late rise and unhealthy breakfast. In some ways it’s the only way I can tell that a week has passed, particularly when I’m not at work. I’ve a list of things to do and end up doing something else instead. Indeed, the doing of something else instead is very likely the point of having the list in the first place.
I decide that if I want to get anything done, I should probably avoid picking up a guitar for a while, otherwise I might as well write the day off.
The something else is some tidying I’ve wanted to do – basically digging down to the piano in order to be able to play it. However, it also seems to end up involving decanting the contents of a box into either a smaller box or a bin bag. There’s also the inevitable byproduct of tidying (that is to say everything gets much, much messier for a while). Eventually, though, I seem to have reclaimed a sizeable chunk of living room, so victory. This chunk includes a box of stuff that I can either throw away or easily refile, which has been sitting there for a long time. Later it will strike me that there’s something symptomatic of my psychological state in that, and that possibly if I can connect our psychology and our stuff I might get a fairly lucrative decluttering book out of it.
There’s also a lot of ironing – which is an act of putting-order-into-the-universe that I always find soothing, in addition to which it means I have clean shirts to wear.
In the evening I take various things to various garbage receptacles and recycling bins, and get fish and chips, the other Saturday tradition. Followed by the highlights of the new Quay Brothers blu-ray. Which are many, especially the commentaries.