So what with all the running about for Christmas followed by the festivities over New Year the Winter Solstice was able to slip by pretty much unremarked. It was on the 21st of December this year, at 22:58 if anyone cares.
What this means is that, in theory, the deep and penetrating blackness of night this morning should have been slightly less deep and penetrating than yesterday morning. Personally I can’t spot the difference. If anything it felt more like I’d been woken in the middle if the night than yesterday.
Still, as the mornings draw on and we trudge towards Spring in the endless cycle of wake up, go to work, come home, go to bed, it should slowly get lighter and slightly less soul destroying. Woo and so on and so forth.
So that’s it. It’s officially dark when I wake up now. Im not leaving the house in darkness thankfully (although it is distinctly grey), but that’s to come. Tesco’s have Christmas ads on the telly and we’re on the inexorable slide into winter. Which is an arse as it was a glorious day on Saturday and I’d like a few more like that before we head into the tail end of the year. I just hope next Saturday is nice (the long range forecast on my weather app is looking favourable 
).
Blam!
The alarm shocks you from blissful slumber to bleary eyed consciousness. Clinging at the desperate belief that, somehow, an extra 60 seconds in bed will make all the difference you delay the inevitable as long as you can. Eventually, resigned to your fate, you can put it off no longer. Trying to peel your eyes open you stumble into the bathroom trying to work out how, after 8 hours sleep, you’re more tired than when you went to bed.
Ablutions done and with the shower having had very little effect you head downstairs to prepare breakfast and lunch only to discover you’ve left the fridge open all night and nothing is cold anymore. Spreading half melted butter on your sandwich you contemplate toast for breakfast instead of cereal with warm milk, but no, you decide to be good.
Taking the cereal out of the cupboard in it’s plastic container you tip it upside down like you do every day to mix the large and small bits together but somehow today you’ve completely failed to hold onto the lid and there is now half a box of Alpen strewn over the work surface and floor. With a sigh you retrieve the dustpan and bush and tidy up before retiring to eat breakfast.
Having to clean up the mess has made you late. You have to rush your tea and head out the door to go to work. The Zozo is off today and you don’t want to go. You want to stay home with her. As you head to the station wondering what else is going to go wrong today the rain pipes up: “Remember me?” it says, “and you don’t have your big brolly with you either, what a shame!”
Cue a short, sharp cloudburst.