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It’s one of those days today.

The Proles are not here.

They are away for a sleep over with one of the Godparents.

There was a meeting that went past school pick up time.

So they are being picked up and they are staying over.
Prole1 has packed Teddy, his Harry Potter book and the origami project they got for Christmas.
Prole2 has packed Eeyore and two flat pack DIY gingerbread houses.

Good luck to them all.

I came out of the meeting and stood on the pavement.
It was getting dark, a little cold with a light rain.

In the past I savoured these evenings.
In London, on a night where I did not have to do anything or see anyone, there was nothing I enjoyed more than walking along the Southbank, crossing Waterloo Bridge and heading up past Covent garden, down Old Compton street and into Chinatown.
From there the West End opened up, Liecester Square and all the Cinemas were right there and there were some wonderfully shabby clubs that played all the wrong kinds of music just round the corner.
I loved the lights, the history, the smell of the place and the fact that no one knew me and anything was possible.
I had favourite restaurants and favourite pubs.
I used to know three or four pubs that, if I dropped into, would have people I knew and I could spend the evening out with.

London had it’s issues but what to do with a free evening was not one of them.

Tonight I stood there.
I stood there and thought of all the things I could do with a night off.

I could go for a nice coffee and think about it?
Actually I don’t like coffee and I resent spending £1.20 on a cup of tea I really do.
I know how much tea bags cost.
£1.20?
It was raining so I had to make my mind up.

Pub.
I don’t really know any pubs any more, I know where they are but I am not a regular visitor to any these days.
I could call a friend and see if they wanted to come out.
They probably would. If I called them.
We could drink beer in a pub, then maybe a meal?
Maybe catch the train home and pick up the car in the morning?`

Round of drinks, not much change from a tenner these days.
Several rounds.
Meal, even from a take away, and it would have to be a little bit of  a treat so say ten, fifteen pounds?
Return trip home?
`

What would I spend on that?

Is that what I want from an evening out? To spend most of a week’s food money on getting drunk?
I don’t do that any more when I can spend a fraction of that and be in my own home.
I am not a very eloquent drunk, these days it’s all wasted words.
I certainly don’t listen to anything any one else says either, not when I am getting wittier and better looking by the drink.
I have lost the taste for it.

Cinema maybe? Spend a lot of money watching a film I won’t enjoy and can’t be bothered to talk about on a big screen?
Pay to sit there in the dark.
Will see it for free in a couple of years.

Theatre?
I actually, and here I am not using dramatic license, I actually shudder at the thought.

Maybe drop round and see someone?
I have friends in town but I have not planned anything.
Would I like it if someone just dropped round?
Well in many cases yes and in many cases no.
Which case am I?
Should I get the phone out and start calling round?
If it should be that the first five people I call cannot see me tonight will that have too much of a negative effect?

Wait though, I don’t really think like this, my sub conscious is throwing up problems.
There must be a reason I am feeling negative about my options.

It’s all a bit stressful when you have the security blanket of childcare whipped off.
You have to analyse things.

You have to analyse your needs and wants.

I could do anything.
I don’t want to do anything.

What do I want?

I want to go back to bed and sleep.

One of my friends once said “I bet you are grateful for the boys, it gives you a reason to get out of the bed each day”.

Yes.
The reason I get out of bed.
I get out of bed each day because I have the Proles to look after.
Each day, out of bed and on Prole patrol.
The logical extension of this is, of course, that if I did not have the Proles to look after I would probably not get out of bed.

Why on earth would I thank someone who makes me get out of bed?

I WANT to be in bed.

So I am standing on the pavement and thinking about my free evening and wondering what to do.

I don’t want to spend loads of money working up a hangover.

I do want to have a nice evening and feel better about it all tomorrow.

So I do what any sane person would do when faced with a clear evening off from childcare.

I go to TKMaxx and buy two fluffy white towels and a new bath mat.

Then I go home, feed the cats and have a bath.

Then I put a duvet on the sofa, I shuffle under it and I close my eyes.

And I am completely happy.

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