We had resolved to spend yet another day out of the sun--time to heal so to speak. I think we got out of bed to eat breakfast, but we must have retired to the outhouse again because when I next looked at my watch it was half past four and I was still wearing my pyjamas. As you might understand there's not much point in getting dressed if you haven't done so by dinnertime; so we didn't. I'm rather fond of my pyjamas; it's really cool and amazingly comfortable. It's a one-piece, the kind you might see a toddler wear; and those are really hard to come by in my size. It's red with a little picture of two mice engaged in a pillow-fight on the left side--at least I think they're mice; they might me strange bears--the whole thing might not look all too sexy, but then that was never the point.
The only exercise we got that day was at night--nine-ish--when we walked down to the mailbox--still in our pyjamas--to fetch the mail.
The remainder of the night we spent watching all kinds of bad programs on TV; a MacGyver rerun I'd seen before, a bad --although rather funny--comedy, some British drama-series and several depressing news-broadcasts about some dead twelve-year-old they'd found in a forest.
All inn all it was a day completely after my liking; little movement, lots of tea, writing, TV and rest.
Introduction