What is it about a rainy day that makes people so contemplative?
Days like today, with the rain beating down hard and fast and running in muddy rivulets through the cobbles on the road, are good for little else I guess.
The grey sky, opaque and vaguely threatening, seems to forestall all good intentions. All that’s left is the TV and this, the empty page.
In a perfect world I’d curl up on the sofa with a steaming hot cup of coffee and a kanelsnegl (Danish pastry!), switch on the box and find an old Woody Allen comedy to help while away a few hours. But it wouldn’t achieve much I guess.
Over the past few days I’ve felt something tugging at my conscience. Little more than a vague distraction but enough to make me question whether I’m making the most of my time.
I have a feeling I’ll look back on these months as some of the best in my life and I don’t want to feel that I’ve wasted them in a stupor of indolence.
Oh well. At any rate here I am, an Englishman in Copenhagen, not doing much of anything, but happy. And well.
Have a good weekend.