It's Jimmy's birthday today. His proper one, that is, not the pretend one he had last week. He was born during the London Olympics.
He's not a well boy. Stinking cold, thanks to certain over-indulgences last week. Let's gloss over, shall we.
I went to bed last night and was just getting to sleep, in a rather pleasant lucid dream phase. I now don't recall the dream but I do recall the sensuous snuggly feeling that comes from the feel of fresh bedding on skin. He started tossing and turning, and sneezing and coughing and generally making me feel sea-sick. Wide awake, I lay in bed thinking glumly I will never get to sleep. So I came downstairs, and returned at 4 am, when he gets up.
Currently, the car showroom outside my house is being demolished. They have an impressively manly tool that chops up concrete, reverberating around most of South London, literally shaking my house. I remind myself that having withstood V2s landing on the said car showroom site, a little bit of mechanical demolition is not going to harm it. They built houses to last in the days of King William. It also leaves a film of dust throughout the house. The old dilemma - keep dusting, or just leave it until they have finished.
Actually it's bloody annoying, and according to the newsagent, someone is going to complain because the dust is affecting her asthma. Apparently, they ought to have covered the site with tarpaulin - which, I don't think is customary. But despite its annoyingness, one can't really complain if they limit their demolition to 9-5 M-F, which, thus far, they do. I suppose I ought to take photos, but I can't be arsed.
So 9.30, I'm lying in bed feeling, literally, the earth move. Wondering about my chances of getting back to sleep. There's a loud knock on the door. I sigh, but feel I ought to get up. I pull on my dressing gown and am just halfway down the stairs when the knock comes again. "Coming!" I call out and open the door.
It's Mr Postman and he has a package I honestly did not think would be delivered until tomorrow. Tomorrow, when I would have no chance to listen to it.
But it came today, about which I feel slightly guilty, it being Jimmy's birthday.
