My exile indoors continues and I’m getting stuff done. Stuff that doesn’t include showering or getting dressed which I don’t intend to do until Monday. One of the great advantages of living alone is you don’t have to make any concessions and I’ve enjoyed getting some work done and tidying the place up whilst I gradually get undone and less tidy in appearance. Seeing as I’m going to be incarcerated for a total of four nights without seeing the outside world or anyone in it, I think I might also see if I can grow a beard. This weekend will be some sort of indoor camping trip. I am the new Ray Mears of indoor living. Come Sunday night I will be finding bits of paper to set alight, adding some furniture, and cooking some cream crackers on my new campfire.
It would be quite a good experiment to spend a month indoors and only open the door to quickly drag in food parcels that you’ve arranged for Tesco Direct to bring to you. You would not be allowed to make any contact with the Tesco Direct man, but I suppose if you answered the door to him he would be so shocked by your torn underwear, long beard, confusion at trying to form a sentence and blinking bewilderment at the light of the outside world he’d run a mile anyway.
It would be good to adopt the life of a sort of savage, albeit a savage that has chosen to rent a flat in a converted warehouse. Ware Man. I think if I ever write another book (which surely I will after the astonishing success of The Power Of 10) I will do that. Let’s see… A novel is about 80,000 words. Divide that by thirty… That’s 2666 words a day for a month. That would take about an hour, hour and a half a day. Bloody hell I used to think writing a novel took someone ages. You could do ten a year! Anyway I know a lot of writing a novel is editing and that month of living like a savage in the same pants would only get you the 1st draft done, but then you could shave off your beard, put on some nice clothes, have a read of all the stuff you’ve written in a nice café and then have a little edit. You’ve still got the bulk of it done. Hmmm… a month indoors. I wonder if that’s healthy?
Well obviously it’s not but I wonder if it would be seriously detrimental to your health? Can’t be. There are loads of hermits out there. In there. Whatever.
Tonight was night three of my camping trip. It’s hard to include Thursday night because I was out but I did sleep here so it does count. Alright, tomorrow morning will be my third morning of my camping trip – Monday morning being the end of it. I’ve really tidied up so far and got things in order. There’s a report I’ve got to write for The Project which I keep managing to put off but I’m sure I can get that done too. All my towels have been through the washing machine and bed clothes have been changed. It’s been productive and I’ve probably saved quite a lot of money by staying home. This is the future!
I found I was out of dishwasher tablets today and wanted to get a load done. So I debated with myself about putting a squirt of washing up liquid in there and setting it going but thought this would probably end in disaster because surely dishwashers have a little compartment for washing tablets for a reason? But then I remembered I was on my own camping holiday, living in the wild essentially, and so I could do what I wanted and make best of my natural surroundings. And my natural surroundings contained some washing up liquid.
Bubbles everywhere. Leaking out the bottom of the dishwasher door and onto the floor. Surely nobody can be in any doubt that this was the most rock n’ roll indoor camping trip of all time? And as an added bonus I got to take a cloth to my kitchen floor and give that a clean too.
Maybe not the most rock n’ roll indoor camping trip of all time in that regard, but a month alone indoors would surely lead to all sorts of Oasis style misbehaviour? Would anything remain safe? Be sure to tune in tomorrow so see what crazy developments have taken place in this strange and wonderful – if ever so slightly tragic and depressing – adventure to end all adventures.
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