24 hours of silence. No Internet. No TV. No Radio. No reading. No listening to stuff. No housework (Yay!) and no cooking...Night before friend suggested I could go for a walk - but I'd have to studiously ignore any 'cheery hello' types. She proposed I hang a sign around my head.
At 00:01, I turned to the cat and asked if he was hungry. One minute in and I'm already failing miserably at this silence malarky.
At 00:15, I made my way, silently, to bed. With no phone, and thus no ability to watch Funny Cat videos, I would not be awake to silly o'clock. I expected to doze off quite quickly.
Wrong. The lack of distractions meant I tuned into the now-fed cat's bedtime ritual. First, he needed to wash his right leg. Then the left. His balls, or rather the package where his balls momentarily resided, needed a thorough going over. Then behind his ears and finally his face. I contemplated how sanitary this procedure was. After all, I was taught the ABC of a strip wash - face, then arm-pits then crotch! I think that cat spends longer washing than I do.
I woke in the morning with the cat washing my face. It was 7am. Part of my plan to tackle a day of doing nothing, was to sleep for much of the morning. Normally the cat feels no need to rouse himself from his slumber until well past nine o'clock. Not today.
The barbed face-wash failed dismally to eject me from what is a warm, comfortable and much-loved bed. Combat Tactic Two began in earnest: sharpening his claws on the fabric of the base of the bed, somewhere in the region well away from my foot. Not being permitted to yell 'Stop That!', I had to resort to wafting my foot in his general direction. Combat Tactic Three saw him return to wash my hair, gagging all over me as my longish hair and his tongue became a tangle teaser of the feline kind. Combat Tact Four was to sit firmly on my bladder.
I capitulated. I have a feeling this is going to be a long day.
Cat fed and let out, bladder emptied, coffee cooling and silence prevailing, I was left with what to do during my day of nothing. Rain horizontal. No walking today. I decided a long, hot bath was in order. Complete with smelling salts. Woke myself up three times talking to myself.
I am a very argumentative sleeper I conclude.
Lunchtime: Cat seems especially chatty today. Not getting a response from me. Fighting urge for background noise. Even a TED talk, or some classical music. Not liking silence. By nightfall, everything seems to be making a racket. The hum of the fridge. The boiler kicking in is a minor explosions. The tapping of the radiators as they expand and contract. The clanking of a teaspoon as I make a coffee. The separation of the door seal on the fridge, like nails along a chalkboard, as I open it to retrieve the milk. The glug and splosh. My movement has slowed down considerably. Nothing to rush for. This is becoming tortuous.
I have finally got used to not muttering to myself. I have managed to refrain from chatting to the cat all day. He now thinks he's in BIG trouble. He isn't.
I decide to do some meditation and yoga. I am not proficient at the former. I have never tried the latter. I meditate for one hour. I am utterly surprised by how quickly time flew. I have never meditated beyond 15 mins before. Next activity: yoga.
I know nothing about yoga. I remember once a friend showing me a picture of her 'doing the tree' on a beach someone gloriously warm and sunny. I did a tree. I am a very wobbly tree. Then I did "I'm a little teapot, short and stout..." to the best of my ability. In slow-mo.
10pm: I am now bored. I file my nails. For the first time in my life, I file my toe nails. I contemplate going to bed but I want to watch the final of "I'm a Celeb". I wander around my garden. The bush rustles. I convince myself it's a rabid fox and flee inside.
12pm. I put on the telly, and switch on the mobile. Immediately I'm struck by how loud my television is. The phone pings with a friend asking if I'm running around the house going 'Whoop Whoop'. I say 'Good Morning' to the cat. He ignores me.