The Mid-Afternoon Deeps of Sunday Evening

It is hard to do nothing without feeling either guilty or restless.
I have been at least partly successful today... though there is that sneaky feeling of guilt that I should have done something 'productive'. Em is at work and Andy is in Kent, so I had a rare day to myself. I have watched the film 'Never Let Me Go', read bits of 'Mystery Animals of Britain and Ireland' and 'Brugges La Morte', snoozed numerous times, kind of tidied my room (at least so it is bearable) and had a short trip to George Street. I took a walk to George Street where I nearly bought Emile Zola's 'The Earth' for a pound from a charity shop, but didn't because I can never get past the second or third chapter about the legalities of dividing a farm between the children of the farmers, or something...
One of those cold bright spring days today. A few clouds in the mostly blue sky and bright sun which seemed to radiate coldness rather than warmth. This surprised me and didn't make me feel so bad about nearly spending the whole day inside, eschewing company and filling my time productively...
Now we have those strange overshadowed hours of Sunday evening. I suppose I'll end up doing some drawing or something, and try not to fall asleep again, at least not before bedtime. Looking out of the window it seems impossible to think that in a couple of hours it will be night out there. It feels like mid-afternoon and it will be mid-afternoon forever.