Rain rain go away come again another day

Boy am I finding it difficult to switch to the dark and cold - despite enjoying these new sensations of cold tingly fingers and darkened walks home and how great the air smells - by god it is hard to get up in the morning. My alarm goes off and i lean over to plug my heater in and stay in bed for the maximum amount of time possible until it is warm enough for me to rise. I have however been enjoying the mighty fine views of east london from bed

 

 



On Monday Felicity and I decided to throw a surprise tea party for Lois who celebrated her 24th birthday at the weekend ( I am officially the old lady of the house at 29. fuck.) We had a jaunt around sainsburys before cycling home where we invented a lethal game where she would hold out an onion ring at arms length and i have to cycle towards it and grab it with just my mouth. a surefire way for me to get hit my a car and die,all in the pursuit of carbs.

 

 

so because it has been so hard to get up this week, the plan was of course to stay home every night thus reserving funds and energy, OF COURSE that didnt happen! I was talking to friends at work about my general exhaustion and poverty when I was reminded that I had said on my 29th birthday this would be the year where i lives as selfish and irresponsibly as possible without getting arrested or a veneral disease. so, who gives a hoot? next year i swear i will start to behave.

With this in mind, tuesday night i headed off to kennington with The Irish to see The Ones Who Kill Shooting Stars at The White Bear. The Irish is a judge in some theatrey thing where he gets to go see plays and they decide if they are good enough to be put forward for some theatre awards. this is good for me because i get to go watch up and coming fringe theatre,

The writing I thought flowed well and the jokes were great! However much bickering was done afterwards around the plotline and I soon gave up and carried on drinking my wine while the theatre bods discussed theatre things. I love theatre, I studied it in school, but I am definately not qualified to argue about technical aspects with people who do it for a living!

. I of course had too much to drink for a school night.

And did this stop me again the next night going out with Erica and Dean to the bar around teh corner from work who gave us a bottle of wine and a bucket of beers. BURP.

Thursday was to be my day of rest. There were sugary treats and of COURSE it rained and o COURSE i did not have an umbrella and for some reason rain turns rush hour into deadlock and my not unreasonable 40 minute bus ride became an hour and a half of sitting in traffic with wet feet. I got home, made sausage and mash and had my heat hanging off the radiator all night.

 

Work has pretty much blown chunks this week and so on Friday, with an exhausting queue of work ahead of me and my eyelids heavy, i really did not expect to go out that night.

 

Of course, 5pm rolls around and I have the willpower of a smack addict hooker from Glasgow and therefore out I was. Again. For ONE drink I said. And somehow the good humour of my friends meant that I stayed out - there were shots, there was rough housing, there was a chance i accidentally chucked a photo cube against the wall thinking itw as rubbish when in fact it was the leaving present of a manager from work. WHOOPS.  By that point me and matty did a runner to macdonalds and had some drunken insightful chats on the number 8 home complete with flatulance. from him not me.

 

 

i asked them to both look normally at the camera

 

productive saturday was on hiatus this week owing to generally productive weekdays, hangovers and people in search for places to live, so i caught up on some much needed rest before cycling to the irishes with beer, soup and chocolate and indulged in some documetaries and good company.

 

before i knew it it was three am and i jumped on my bike for the five minute cycle home. however i got a bit over confident as i whizzed down mile end road and made the mistake of thinking my boris bike was in fact a bmx and i tried to curb jump. ERROR. i flew clear of my bike alongw oth my bag which is omehow also managed to run over and smash a good deal of stuff up. east london humiliation. of COURSE there still had to be people about to witness this.

 

I parked my bike and walked home alongside the city foxes and stayed up til 5am chatting with my friend Anja, reminising about our new york days before drifting off, only to be awoken at 8am. curses!

 

And i bet an early wake up does NOT happen tomorrow.

 

Sunday has been sent blissfully lounging, listening to music including a ditty the irish wrote about me laying in a bath for a month. That was, until the little street rats appeared and started smashing te bikes up at the front. i lost my temper and called the police, despite the barrage of abuse as they called up to my window. fuck off. this is my home now and im settled. even the man in the local shop knows my usual purchases. whoever thought that could happen in this day and age in london?