I’ve been expecting you, I said when the delivery man knocked on my door yesterday evening. Having ordered a new gadget from Amazon on Sunday, the lovely automated e-mail told me that I’d receive it the next day because I’d signed up to Amazon Prime in a drunken state earlier on this year. On returning from work, I scanned the floor beneath my letterbox, only to be disappointed at that it was devoid of anything other than the draft excluder and a litter of the little dog’s toys.

Humph. So much for promises.

I checked my e-mails again and found a tracking number: my delivery was still in transit and could still arrive that very day! The excitement brought on the predictable desire to go to the toilet, but I was in a quandary: how could I leave the vicinity of my front door for anything more than a millisecond? Why does this happen to me? Every time I need to do something, my colon gets in the way. Luckily, I managed to keep it together for long enough for the knock on the door at 6pm. Trying my best not to look too desperate excited, I cheerily signed the man’s electronic whatever the hell that thing is called with a “you think I’m signing my name, but I’m writing that I need a poo” and took the package from him.

So what brought about all this excitement? Well, it’s a fabulous keyboard/cover for my iPad, one of these, in fact. It’s functional, but it’s also beautiful and when great design meets great technology, I’m hooked/screwed.

The keypad on the iPad itself is pretty nifty, but this effectively turns the device into a little notebook.

Little things.

Skyfall
Having found myself stuck in the doldrums for months, something happened a week or so ago that seems to have dropped me a rope ladder that I’m using to climb out of my black hole of doom and gloom, albeit slowly. I don’t know what that something was, but I decided to stop drinking and this one simple thing has helped enormously.

My improved mood prompted me to want to do stuff all of a sudden, and it stopped me from wanting to do other things. With the building excitement about the impending release of the latest Bond film, I decide to go to the cinema on opening night to watch it… on my own. So I did.

On Friday night, I took myself off to Bury, managed to get to my destination without getting lost (as I usually do) or writing off my car (as I have done once) and I found the cinema. The excitement was building and I felt drawn to the pick and mix. The rule here is GO FOR THE LIGHT STUFF, but I’m a sucker for chocolate brazils and cola bottles, so ended up paying £7 for about four sweets.

Still stunned from being mugged by something that made my pancreas scream, I found my “VIP” seat in the theatre and waited for the feature to start. And I waited, and waited, and waited. There was half an hour’s worth of adverts and trailers. Half a fucking hour. I sat there becoming restless, my tablet was wearing off and bad Tina was telling me to forget it and go home. CBT Tina told me to “Shut the fuck up and stop being ridiculous. Besides, you’re now wedged in your seat after eating all that confectionary, so you can’t get out if you try”.

The film itself was brilliant and I’ve found myself bursting to talk to somebody about it, but nobody else has seen it yet. I could ruin it all here by saying that Skyfall is [insert spoiler here], [insert another spoiler here] dies and [insert another spoiler here] played by Ralph Fiennes, but that would be really unfair. Do I hit delete? Well I would, but this being effectively a Mac keyboard, it doesn’t have one. Ok, I took out the spoilers, it was CBT Tina who made me do it.

Animals
I love animals: as pets; as food; as cute things to look at in fields and that. I must love animals, or the little dog would be dead rehomed by now. I’d love to have more pets: ever since the beautiful Max cat, I’ve wanted another tabby; I also think it’d be a nice idea for Rocky to have another little dog (who I shall name Sausage) as a companion. Unfortunately, neither of these is a possibility. I live on a busy road and the cat would get squished in much the same way as the poor kitty I found this evening. The idea of a Sausage is appealing when I think of taking the little fellers for runs in the woods, but my heart sinks when I consider taking another dog for a walk on-lead with Rocky behaving as he does when he’s on his.

Alas, therefore, it’s just me and the little guy for a while. We do OK together, me and him.