No porridge drawer yet.

It’s nearly midnight and I’m too tired to post anything substantial, so you’ll just have to make do with this, I’m afraid..

Today was yet another boring Sunday. I didn’t get up until around midday, which I hate, as then I feel like the whole day has been wasted. But that’s what you get when you stay up until 5:00 a.m. watching episodes of “Deadwood”. There have been more Saturday evenings spent at home recently watching “Deadwood” than I care to remember. I’d like to go out but I’m broke, and I have nothing decent to wear anymore.

All I’ve had to eat today is a bowl of bloody porridge, so I really need to go and eat something now. Midwestern Man and I were going to go out for lunch today, but we eat out far too much, so I insisted that we have porridge instead. It was the only thing I had to eat in the house, which is really quite depressing. Midwestern Man wasn’t happy about the porridge, but, ach, things could be worse. If I have to start pouring the porridge into a drawer, waiting for it to harden and then cutting it into slices for a “tasty” lunch treat (as they apparenly once used to do in “the motherland”), we’ll know that we’ve really hit rock bottom.

By the way, does anybody who’s not British even get the relevance of the photo accompanying today’s post?