I am none too good at waiting. Patience, thy name is not Deb.
I have ordered a new bed and mattress, but does the phone ring to tell me the new bed and mattress (and the good night's sleep I need) is ready? No. The phone is stubbornly silent. The phone, in fact, is taunting me. It allows through text messages which have nothing to do with beds and mattresses, but nothing else.
I have always suspected that phones are (not so) secretly evil.
In the meantime, I have been distracting myself with random and useless trivia.
On Friday, I learnt how to spell proctosedyl. I'm sure that'll come in handy. Sometime. Probably not in the immediate future. Actually, by the time it comes in handy, I'll probably have forgotten, and all I'll be able to remember is the price of an IVF cycle in 2007. (I quote that number a lot. A lot lot.) I also visited an old drinking haunt from my uni days, but that only served to make me feel excessively old.
Yesterday, I entertained myself (for (very loose) values of "entertained" equalling bored) writing website code for the dayjob. I passed the evening drinking a bottle of bourbon I had been given no less than 10 (10!) years ago. What was I thinking, leaving it so long? It was awfully good, however. Today I miss it.