sclrunch

I went and made a cup of tea and on the way I thought I was going to have a mince pie with it. I thought how piggy I was being eating all these mince pies and I wasn’t even hungry, and I felt sad. But I was going to have one anyway, wasn’t I? I made a cup of tea. Not many teabags left. We could have got more today but I just didn’t get round to do doing it. Both that and washing powder. Now I have no clean clothes and not many teabags. I could have done all that and washed and cleaned my clothes but I didn’t I just didn’t. I made the cup of tea. I looked at it and I hated it and myself I didn’t even want it. My stomach felt full and tea would only make the feeling worse. What was I doing. I most certainly wasn’t going to have a mince pie now, other food was being made anyway so I don’t want to spoil my appetite. I took the tea and instead of drinking it I went to the front door and threw it out onto the street. It made a big plume of steam and a nice shloo pat pat pit pat as it flew and then hit the floor. Back inside I dropped the mug to get rid of it because I hated it and it smashed on the floor with a most satisfying noise. I left it there. I came upstairs to my dark room and lay on my bed with headphones on and listened to beethovens ninth second movement real loud. I kind of laughed at how lame I was listening to classical music in my bedroom like some moody teenager listens to music when he’s in a mood except I was listening to this. Like I’m the lamest kid alive but I don’t care. Then I settled into it and took great pleasure in the vibrations that a deaf man had composed 188 years ago.