Rolling Stones Friday

I've been obsessing about the Rolling Stones these last few days, playing them constantly on my headphones. I still consider their music to be some of the best there is, even the bad stuff, and some of my favourite. I have Thursday and Fridays off, so what better thing to do on days off?

My current obsession started Tuesday on my way to work. I listened to the re-released bonus tracks from Some Girls on my headphones heading into the city. I don't usually listen to music as I walk to work, this last incantation... (no, that's not right? [in Bubble's voice]) incarnation of my working life always seems nicer if I listen to the sounds of the day, as I make my way, to the office. Open. Free. The rustle of leaves in the trees. Bird song. The clank of the trams rolling by. The sound of voices close by. People. Things. Traffic. Ringy ding dings.

I thought I found a nice antidote to Mick and the boys today, Stevie Wonder, but he got a bit raucous after a while. Stevie? Even I am surprised.

I switch him off. The silence is great.

I create a new header for my blog. I like the colours I come up with.
I write some poems. Finish ones that I had already started. They seem ho hum, but I decide to put them on my poetry blog anyway.
I contemplate a movie. Watch a DVD?
I think, I should read.
I read a review of Edmund Whites reading list, and feel stupid and unread next to him. Nothing by Henry Green is his favourite book. I've never even heard of Henry Green.
I decide to write instead. I am cross at hitting two keys on my keyboard as I type and momentarily wonder if the tips of my fingers are swollen? I wonder if I should measure them just to be sure? Ha ha, it is just ineffectual typing.

I eat mandarins and contemplate more coffee. How much coffee can one drink? I think, I should know the answer to that?

It is a grey day. Windy.

I feel sleepy and contemplate lying on the couch for the afternoon.  But that is not going to get me any where? Plenty of time to sleep when I am dead, as they say.
Perhaps, I'll watch Netflix. Writing is not really working. I'm not feeling it.
The house is quiet, just Buddy snoring on his bed.

Computer. Square eyes. Not much inspiration. It starts to rain. The wind blows. I contemplate an open fire. 
I decide on Payment On Demand. Just what is needed on a grey Friday afternoon, an old black and white. I make more coffee and peel two more mandarins. I pull the blanket over me, puff up my pillow and lay back on the couch.

Shrug. Friday afternoon. Lovely.

I might have once contemplated that a Bette Davis movie collection and a Rolling Stones music collection were somewhat incongruous, but, I guess, they are both retro now, that's what the kids would think anyway.

Is retro in, or out?