The little things

I'm alone, sipping red wine on the couch on Saturday night. An inadequate breeze floats in occasionally from three sash windows and it's hot and sticky. I'm tired, so exhausted that I can't imagine being chirpy ever again. I guess six months away takes its toll and I've been pretty busy since I got back (as the pix show). Luckily I have the flat to myself, two luxurious floors of quiet space just for me... I've been enjoying having my own living room again, and sleeping in my own bed. It's amazing how the little things can bring great relief. Someone just rang the doorbell, but I'm not answering. I can't think who would be here to see me at this time of night. They can wait, outside my zone of conscious thought. Tomorrow is Sunday, a day of rest, and I'm looking forward to it already.