I finally reach my favourite number on Tuesday! I have no idea why but, whenever asked, I tend to plump for 27. 26 isn't even in my top 10, but 27 - now that's a number.
So, what exactly is going to happen in year 27 of the life of Sam Lenton? Publication? Promotion? Paternity? Something that doesn't begin with 'P'?
Well, to start with I shall receive presents and, as is the pattern nowadays, I will know exactly what they are as I have not only added them to my Amazon wish list but have giggled with glee as they disappear from said list. With only 3 likely providers of such gifts, it's not even that difficult to narrow down who might have purchased what.
(Side note - current 'P-word' count in this blog stands at 8)
What is perhaps a little depressing is that I've just spent 20 or 30 minutes (we all know it's nearer 30, but let's give me a shot at some dignity anyway) trawling through Amazon in the look out for something I might like my brother to buy me. It's such a strange experience assessing whether buying a particular item would be a worthwhile use of someone else's money or not.
So, since I should really be taking this time to write my play rather than procrastinate by pondering presents on a personal blog, I think I should probably bless you all with a briefer than usual contribution.
Preparing for 27 with ever-increasing anticipation...
(Final 'P' count : 16. An OK number but barely in the same league as 27.)
Poor parent! he waits eagerly for said presents to pop through the door but the postman passes by and posts then elsewhere instead. How pathetic that a gift giver fails to perceive the perfect address and has a faulty perspective on where they ought to be presented. Phew! That may be petty but still pleasurable to procrastinate so purrfectly! Now for a 'p' count - 17 I believe - but who cares if I am precise or not? Eat your hat, Master!
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