First World Sunday

By the year 2000 we’ll all have jet-packs and robots will do all the work, allowing us to spend all of our time playing chess and discussing Chekhov.

Meanwhile, in 2012, here’s how I spent my luxurious Sunday.

M works on Sunday and so she had to abandon the snuggly bed at an early hour. Being a girl it takes her a couple of hours to leave the house which I spent drifting in and out of unnerving dreams; when the dreams gave way to conscious mental meanderings such as “I wonder what the lyrics to ‘Freak Magnet’ actually are” and “perhaps if I till the soil in Minecraft I can grow some grasses”, I happily remembered my Nexus-7 was in crawling distance of the bed and thus began two hours of Internet whimsy in the safe comfort of the bed. M brought up our new housemate, Corbett, in his travel cage because the little git was screaming his head off. Once on the bed he settled down to make his gentle happy noises and started to preen. There we sat for a long while: me messing about on Facebook, he messing around with his feathers.

Something in the corner of the room started playing annoying music which caused me to scowl and ignore it. Curiosity eventually led me to get out of the enveloping duvet and investigate the source of the music which turned out to be M’s iPad: it appeared my Dad had attempted to call me over Facetime. So I retreated to the comfort of the bed and the company of Corbett with the iPad, and called back. Now it feels like 2012! A video chat with my parents in their comfy room 3000 miles away and me in the bed.

After a nice long chat I took a shower and went back to messing around with a mobile app I’m playing with while Leo hung out on my shoulder.

I had arranged to go on a bike ride with a friend at 2pm but she wasn’t feeling too good when I called round. The weather was so spectacularly beautiful it would have been criminal not to take advantage of it so I went alone. It was the most beautiful autumnal day and I cycled along the Schuylkill River Trail up to Spring Mill and back before nearly killing myself walking up the bastard hill. But it was an 11 mile round-trip which pays for itself in smug value. If it wasn’t for living in Hilly Hillville on the Hill I would cycle everywhere. Probly.

This evening was spent hanging out with M and the birds, eating shrimp and pineapple tacos, watching recent British TV and drinking wine.

This is how we live in the comfortable end of the first world in 2012. If you ever hear me moan about anything then please give me a slap.

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