Don't panic. The slow cooker's on. It's making a sort of pork stew with some leftovers. I had to use sweet potato instead of leek, beer instead of cider and gravy instead of chicken stock. It is taking ages. It is a slow cooker.
I'm housebound because I've hurt my right foot and I can't get my shoes on. I don't know how I did it - it's possible my laces were too tight when I did up my walking boots the other day on the way to work. Mind you it's also possible that I kicked the doorframe on one of my somnambulant walks to the bathroom.
I've thought about ordering a pizza. I can't use my card until Thursday though. Plus, it always arrives with a portion of guilt at the bottom of the greasy cardboard box. Last time I did that I sprawled across the sofa with a tight stomach and the indigestion of a Roman emperor.
So I'm hobbling around, doing washing and peering into the slow cooker.
Is this how the Apostle Paul felt when he was under house arrest, I wonder? Maybe I should start crafting a letter with long, overflowing sentences you have to think about halfway through.
I did some research on American presidents. Then I ordered my shirts and sorted out the recycling. I cut up some cardboard boxes (an ongoing project) and then listened to some ex-footballers talk about football in the same way they always do, until I fell asleep.
I'm not going to go on about my foot. If it balloons up overnight though, like a kind of inflatable shoe, I am definitely going to the doctor about it... if I can figure out how to get there.
In the meantime, I might watch a few survival clips on YouTube, just in case I'm here for a while.
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