Bored

A quiet, pleasant weekend has just slipped past bland and landed with a (dull) squelch in boring, so I am sitting tapping my foot with a sullen gleam in my eye: what can I vent my spite on?

Not the cat, who was cooperative when I had to wash clots of shit from her hind foot, bum, tail, my duvet, Felix's duvet and carpet. Not the house, which is quite tidy enough, and I have uprooted all my thistles and besides, it is getting dark.

Buzz-cut my hair. Drive to Safeway and buy olive oil (we're out). Take to drink (don't dare).

What do other mature women do when they want to rebel? and please, not the gamekeeper. And not retail therapy, then I'd really slit my throat.