I left work at 6.30, having had a last-minute spurt of enthusiasm for something I was working on. To Tesco for some food (I went healthy in my choices), then home.
I use the word "home" guardedly. Home is where the heart is. My heart is not here in Farnborough. So, perhaps home is where your stuff is? My mother suggested that home is where you wash your underpants. In that case, the room in a shared house in Farnborough is home. I had a couple of loads of washing through various machines over the course of the day. I also ironed a bunch of shirts before I allowed myself to make something to eat.
Following food consumption, I retreated to my room to see whether I could find the floor - it was under the rubbish somewhere. After much moving of things, I found the floor. It needs vacuuming. I hung my pictures - they're not pictures, actually. They're clip-frames with either sheet music or programmes from some of my favoured musicals.
I sorted through some boxes and notepads. I played a new tune on my piano and whistled that tune from Mary Poppins that I mentioned earlier.
My girlfriend came online and we played an online game. After a time, I started updating my blog. My post of earlier today was prematurely published. So, if you read it and thought I'd missed the weekend out, then read back.
Then it got late and I falsely altered this post's time and date to make it come into the right day. Oh, how I deconstruct my own behaviour.