My life in 2025

Look Beyond Today arrived by post from Australia. Spent a tenner in Morrisons on some nibbles for tomorrow but Rihanna, having dissed them and made out they weren't for her, made a fairly rapid acquaintance with the packet of fake Mars bars called Apollo after another God. Tomorrow is a new year and on a personal level today seemed scheduled for significance as it was almost the day my new life as someone on ADHD medication began but that is postponed, at least until January 28th.  That being said, I am finally old enough to know one shouldn't look beyond today. At least in the sense that we tend to undervalue the present. So I am going to bed before midnight. 2025 may bring some interesting headlines. China/Taiwan, Russia/Ukraine, UFOs, AI, Trump...Every year since 2020 has been a banger and it feels like these times are not about to stop delivering but one could also say plus ca change.

My passport has expired, so I had to go to the Post Office and pay extra to apply for a driving licence. Then the assistant did it all online, anyway, on a tablet. For my photo, I had to go and stand in a shabby corner of the room partitioned off from the shop floor, and each time the girl took a snap, it was pleasantly awkward as she had to wait a minute or two to receive a response from the website, which kept rejecting the shot. The fourth time, she used the flash. These days there are so many people in receipt of benefit one feels one should say 'thank you for your service' to anyone working, such as the aforementioned girl of about 23 serving me for minimum wage. But it's a far cry from the heyday of the high street in Neath. She was dressed in whatever most people answer the front door in at the weekend, and these days the Post Office is just at the back of WHSmith, which is still cosplaying a newsagent, confectioner, stationer, purveyor of board games, etc., but is a...

Rihanna is perpetually adamant that we are going to give up this lovely house we've spent nearly 5 years making ours and trade it for a tiny council flat. The argument goes round and round. Yet I've all but surrendered internally, even if I go through the motions.   In my view, however, she's right about me having too much stuff. Today I put some books in a bag that are going to charity or on ebay. One of them is Jimmy Savile's autobiography. I can read it on archive.org, should I ever want to get round to it, but who knows how long archive.org will survive for. I tend to have an apocalyptic mentality when it comes to books. I collect them in the event of a scenario in which books would be necessary once more rather than the semi-decorative items they've become in my home. I haven't read a book cover to cover in many years. Afterwards, the book shelf looked so much the better and I felt a little bit less cluttered internally.

This morning I was hoovering the lounge when I slowly became aware of Rihanna shouting down the stairs. She was in a flap about two men in the garden, reckoned they had gone around the side of the house. By the time I got my coat on and went outside there was no trace of them. We reviewed the video footage, which only picked them up coming through the gate, ringing on the door, waiting and leaving. However, the disconcerting thing is, when Rihanna spoke to them on the intercom they did not respond. In fact, it was so disconcerting we agreed if they called again I'd answer through the upstairs window.  Unfortunately, the cheap Chinese video doorbell Rihanna acquired does not pick up the remarks they made to themselves or what Rihanna said. It was a distorted mess.  My guess is, they were either Jehova's witnesses or debt collectors. We have no outstanding debts either of us is aware of but it's possible not everyone is up to date. They both had black winter coats and one a h...