You want sympathy? It's in the dictionary between shit and syphillis

Boy, have I been in a stinker of a mood this week. Its hormones, hormones I beseech thee! hormones and rain and work and general wahness. I am disappointed to learn that actually I am not that good at hiding my bad mood and thus have been constantly apologising all week to friends after what feels like every sentence i say in case i snapped it or it came out grumpy. i blame my low browline for making me look sterner than  maybe I am. Every day after work I have come home, shut my bedroom door and at one point, went to bed at seven thirty pm.

And although I love my time alone, my private time, the fact that I didnt go out sunday - thursday - it just made me sit at home stewing in my bad moods when i probably should have gone out, but thus funding did not allow with any of us.

My sister is also going back to New York shortly with her boyfriend and I guess thats made me feel sad too. I really miss New York.  I miss the air. And then I snap myself out of it and remind myself of how lucky I am to witness my favourite season in London.

my street

morning apocolypse

What probably hasnt helped is that ive been listening to jeff buckley this week. ALOT. at one point i sat in my room, in the dark, eating this while crying to his music. in a way its quite enjoyable, i felt 15 again!

Friday afternoon saw us work lot head to Ronnie Scotts for our quarterly 'arent we awesome' speeches from the directors while we sit poking at bits of sweaty cheese and cured meats with wooden sticks in a room with no air con whilst trying to drink as much free booze as I can without throwing up. 

We headed off to our local for what as always meant to be one drink which turned into.....more. damn you happy hour prices!

Spending some QT with some of my favourite people cheered me up no end and thanks to tina i had my first gin and lemonade. maybe it was where i was already drunk but...how could I have hated that my whole adult life?! It was delicious! or maybe thats another sign that i am getting really old, as gin is a nanas drink.

On Saturday I bravely cycled to whitechapel alone for food and was intent on going home and continuing to wallow in both hangover and hormones before Felicity persuaded me to go to the East London Thrift Shop which is a ten minute walk from my house. they had a pick and mix sale: you can buy a carrier bag for ten pounds or a larger one for twenty and you get to shove as much as humanly possible in the bag! oh dear lord. i go five dresses, two tops and a skirt. for ten pounds. really nice vintage stuff too! felicity is a pro at pick and mix sales and taught me how to fold everything down to make as much space as possible in the bag. we felt quite naughty still and asked the ( really hot) sales assistant if we were taking the piss,to which he replied ' dudes...keep on sticking stuff in that bag!' 

 i love this, it doesnt go with my general look of crazy Victorian nana however it appears to be a real waitress outfit from america!

to celebrate i stayed in and ate hot chocolate cake with custurd. BOOM!

sunday was going to be spent actually cleaning my room (which is impossible as the hoover has broken and no matter how much i tidy, i cant see carpet through crumbs so..) until the irish told me he was curating a theatre event later in dalston at the arcola theatre and he would put my name on the door and see me there at five.

I was understandably nervous about attending; from experience when a friend curates a night they are very busy and have to talk to lots of different people. and as i wouldnt know anyone else there but him i got the most awlful social anxiety at the thought of being left standing alone or worse, trying to converse with theatre types and looking like an idiot.

of course i was being silly and underestimating his ability to not be a perfect gent. i got to watch five very interesting short plays - my favourite being one about two brothers at their fathers funeral.

we continued to run to the shop several times for supplies and five hours few by in a haze of crisps, nuts, beer and ridiculously bad jokes that not even the soggy weather could dampen. 

not even the charm of the irish could stop another black hormonal mood descending though on the way home. i have never willed myself onto a period more. i am literally a prisoner to my own hormones and even i am getting tired of my own grumpyness!

hopefully this week will be better for all involved especially as i have so many nice new dresses to wear!!

and a ridiculously large lasagne to get through.

challenge accepted!!!