A Week on Instagram, Where Nothing Happened

A Week on Instagram, Where Nothing Happened

I’m worried about myself. I sort of pledged to myself that I wouldn’t be doing any 365 challenge crap ever again but that’s exactly what I appear to be doing. Fortunately, there were no witnesses to my pledge, and dead men tell no lies the cat doesn’t talk. So here’s another week’s worth of a photo a day on my Instagram.

12 Feb: Based on this post, it looks like I’ve been somewhere. But where the fuck? That much to my idea of taking a photo a day lest I forget. Instead, notice the cute yellow circle in the picture, perhaps the remainder of a manhole.
13 Feb: I took a picture of my key collection. I’m not sure what all these are good for, presumably nothing. In fact, I only need a total of three keys. It’s not like I’m a key master.
14 Feb: Scratch that. I totally am a key master. The post of the janitor comes bundled with a manual on what to do in case of fire (I haven’t read it yet—neither do I intend to) and with an array of keys. Make your pick.
15 Feb: My cat hates me. Should I still have any doubts about this, she gave me this cold stare when I was going aww at her. Zip it up, human.
16 Feb: Normal people go to a pub on Fridays, mental people colour mandalas. I recommend you stick to the pub.
17 Feb: The highlight of the day was the flawless perfection which I achieved when bagging my groceries. That’s Tetris OCD-style. I doubt that there are many people who reach this level of professionalism in tetris for grown-ups.
18 Feb: My life couldn’t possibly get better. I got a super cute case for my beloved phone, on which said phone thought it a great idea to start dying on me. Note to self: be aware that no phone lasts more than two years because that’s how the fucking things work these days.


12 thoughts on “A Week on Instagram, Where Nothing Happened

  1. Ooh, a new Glade candle! What’s a Bio Bifi drink? Sounds like something to make you big and strong…to lift that load of keys, which you grabbed as the fire raged, of course.


    1. Okay, you got me. I did purchase a Glade candle, though I have sworn I’d stop wasting money on them… The Bifi drink is pretty awesome though. Not only does it taste great, but I suspect it’s healthy too. Probably some good kind of bacteria in it or something.


  2. I have it on good authority that phones DO last more than two years.Mine has. My work phone lasted over 10 and was still going when I retired! Of course, it was an original Nokia. You standard make and take calls kind where even texting was a newfangled thing just too hard to do, so don’t bother….


    1. You’re right about Nokias. They’ll outlast us all. I was talking about smartphones specifically, they never last. If I didn’t want a smartphone, I still would have had my old trusty Nokia now and I’m sure it would work just fine.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Splendid images. I feel a special affinity for the first photo- I can relate to the little manhole-remnant (well-placed in the shot, by the way). Your cat’s eyes are hypnotizing…I am also despised by the feline race.

    My smart-arse phone is still working but we’re not on speaking terms. It’s a droid (it sings this at me to remind me when I bring it back to life on occasion) and takes ten minutes to boot up. Can I say that about a phone? I use an ancient, immortal flip instead. It’s bulky, ugly and useless as all I can do with it is call people…who wants to do that? I suppose I could try the texting thing…beh, work…




    1. Aw, thank you so much, as always, for your wonderful comment! It’s so great that you like the same photo as I do: I’m so fascinated with man-holes! Seriously. I think they’re underestimated works of art.

      Phones are tricky, especially droids. Mine is a droid too and we’re currently not much on speaking terms either. I’m waiting for it to die natural death before purchasing a new one. Sometimes I feel like giving up the smartphone idea entirely and reviving my old button phone, which I’m absolutely sure is still fully functioning.

      Cheers to you!


      1. I feel the same. I once noticed an unattended manhole when I was about four-years-old and had a habit of leering at the world from the tops of trees. I, also blissfully unattended, stealthily stalked over to the hole, pulled the loose cover aside, and scampered down the metal ladder into the dingy heaven below. I wandered about the leaf-littered tunnels for a few minutes, suffered sudden anxiety that the workers would shortly return, and scrabbled back up the ladder to the bleaching sunlight above. For a while, I felt like I was home, down there…

        I really find them absolutely beautiful, alluring and rather relatable.

        My phone will outlive me…not necessarily a good thing, giving me a bit of a complex actually. May be better to have a phone you can outlive. Confidence-boosting.



        1. Your childhood seems to be full of traumas! And adulthood, I guess… I can’t say I’ve even been down a manhole, or a rabbit hole, for the matter. That might be for the best. Cheers!


          1. Sigh…yes, having to come out of that manhole and return to the humdrum of society was indeed a tremendous trauma. I never wanted to return topside ever again, it was magical down there…


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