CHEAPO SUPERCOLA

Even the sky is gloomy today. Behind the clouds, the sun's sinking and the rolling grey is slowly fading into a purply black.

I'm a little bit at-sea because I got up and out of the house in seven minutes this morning.

My phone buzzed next to my head and woke me up:


Morning. Just checking you're still on for Breakfast? Can I order for you? Q


My friend Q and I meet for breakfast every now and again at the golden arches, just to catch up. He's changing the world; I'm muddling along changing spelling and punctuation.

Anyway, I'd forgotten that it was this morning. I leapt out of bed as though electrocuted, and bolted into the bathroom. Seven minutes later I was in the car, reminding myself what day it was and which arm goes in which coat-sleeve.

Life is busy. Q tells me he works fourteen or fifteen hour days, at which I raise my eyebrows.

"I just think that we should learn how to find rest," I heard myself saying, "Times when we're not thinking about doing any work at all."

I waited for the bolt of lightning, you know the type that's especially reserved for hypocrites. I was alright. I just stared into my porridge. Q nodded along, agreeing with me.

"What do you do when you rest?" he asked, "I can't lie in, I have to get up and go for a run."

I wish I knew what I liked to do for a rest. It suddenly feels like a long time since I had one of those. I guess there's always Screen-Free Saturdays - they're good, it's just that the last few seem to have been stacked with other stuff. They've been different, but I don't know about restful.

So, the challenge is on. How do you rest? How do you plan to rest? How do you ring-fence your resting moments and how do you deal with people who want to steal them away from you?

I think I need to learn. As I was setting up for choir last night, I felt as though all the energy I had, had been drained out through the top of my head and all that was left was a limping bag of bones and withering muscle.

In fact, it wasn't until I had a cup of Cheapo SuperCola that I felt like I could do anything at all.

I don't know what magic they put in that stuff but for a few minutes I was like the Hulk, lifting those chairs and setting up the 32kg piano in a flourish of unbridled strength.

It didn't last though. By the end I was back to Mr Wimpy.

But, you know what the Bible says: 'Man can not live on Cheapo SuperCola alone...'

Anyway, Q and I didn't reach any grand conclusions about what resting actually looks like. He went off to do whatever it is he does and I drove off to work.

I'll figure it out. So long as it's not too much hard work to do so, I'll figure it out.