The Friday Saturday Five Random Act of Stupidity

Remember how last week I started doing The Friday Five again and I was all, “I am going to do this every Friday now for the rest of my life, only maybe not”?

You all thought I forgot yesterday, didn’t you?

Well I did not! No, I did not forget The Friday Five, but it seems The Friday Five forgot me, because the website I get the questions from  didn’t get updated at all yesterday. And hasn’t been updated today either, at the time of writing. So, what basically seems to have happened is that I started doing The Friday Five, and The Friday Five stopped. Maybe forever. So, in other words, I broke The Friday Five. GOD.

Instead, here is a Random Act of Stupidity that took place in the early hours of Friday morning, so is still somewhat “Friday” themed…

So, because I am lazy, I have either ordered all my Christmas gifts from the internet, or I have delegated Terry to buy them.  Trust me, I totally suck at buying gifts, it’s for the best.  On Thursday afternoon, then, one of these packages was delivered, and I opened it, checked the gift inside… then, for reasons that aren’t particularly clear even to me, I placed it back inside the packaging and put the packaging on my desk.

Then, a few hours later, I picked it up, carried it downstairs, and placed it in the recycling bin outside.

The recycling bin that Terry later wheeled down to the bottom of the driveway, for collection in the early hours of Friday morning.


For some reason, though, luck was on my side that night. This was unusual in itself, because luck is hardly EVER on my side, but suddenly, as I lay drifting off to sleep at about 1am, the image of that parcel came floating into my head. I saw it sitting on my desk. I saw myself walking downstairs with it. I saw, as if from a great distance, my hand reaching out and throwing it in the recycling.  And then, with a small shriek, I sat bolt upright and shouted, “OMG! I HAVE THROWN THE PARCEL IN THE BIN!”

Then I lept from the bed and rushed to the window, where I peered down at the dark street outside. Sure enough, there, at the bottom of the driveway, stood the bin, waiting to be collected. I actually have no idea why I went to the window and looked at it, to be honest. I mean, did I think I’d be able to hear the feeble cries of the package as it threw itself helplessly against the sides of the bin, shouting, “let me oooouuuttttt!”? Because I couldn’t.

Anyway, because Terry is a chivalrous gentleman, he volunteered to go to the rescue of the package, so I jumped back into bed and lay there, as snug as a bug in a rug, listening to the sounds of him going outside and rummaging through the rubbish at 1am on a freezing November night, his dressing gown whipping friskily around him as he did so.

He did manage to find it, though. And that’s how it came to pass that one of my friends/family (because it could be either! Hell, it could be yoooouuuu!) will receive a gift that has spent a few hours of its life inside my recycling bin this Christmas.* It’s the thought that counts, no?


* I feel I have to point out that the gift itself was well-wrapped at the time, so it did not suffer for its time inside the bin. And it’s all paper in there anyway. No gifts were injured in the making of this entry, I promise!