April 23, 2008

• I don't care what the weatherman says,

  When the weatherman says it's raining,
  You'll never hear me complaining,
  I'm certain the sun will shine....

  At least, I hope it shines tonight.  We're dancing out.  And it's never fun to dance out in the rain.  Slippery cobbles, shirts-going-see-through, generalised dampness (I was a cat in a former life.  I seriously object to generalised dampness, and I have some issues with specific sogginess too).  Unless one is thoroughly soaked, at which point some sort of Blitz mentality descends, and the determination to Keep Dancing and Have Fun rather outweighs the discomfort of it all.  Particularly when one knows that there is probably hot chocolate in one's future.

  I'm feeling somewhat better than yesterday.  For starters, I had more than two hour's sleep last night, I had not imbibed three gin and tonics and a tequila shot on an almost empty stomach beginning at 11pm, therefore I did not wake up drunk this morning.  Instead, I had supper at The Carlton, and demolished salmon mousse followed by calves' liver and bacon with french beans and sautéed potatoes, with a pudding of crème brûlée.  No alcohol.  Being as this was my first proper meal since Sunday evening, I more than did it justice.  We wound up with coffee in the ladies' sitting room, and were home by 10.15pm.  Partly precipitated by my having a nosebleed in the ladies' sitting room: it punctuated the evening nicely, and I was ever so lucky and did not drip on the sofa.  It was shortlived and entirely random, and suggests that we are not only heading into the hayfever season, but that I'm also a bit stressed. 

  Sources of stress include (but are not limited to) Pack Holiday, First Aid for the rugby team, Softball Season, Websites: essentially most extra-curricular activities.  Am very bored with knitting the collar for le pull français, as it is 8cm of 2x2 ribbing.  Booooooring.  It is not good commuter knitting as it tends to fall off the knitting needles, being too long for my ancient, old, geriatric, inherited from my Grandmother, metal straights.  I was going to say I should shift over to my 3.5mm lace turbos, but, they're too pointy for the yarn (DK, splitty) so I may buy a new set of bog standard turbos.  If I leave work on time, I shall detour via Waterloo and I Knit. 

  I'm now going to go and eat a solid lunch (I weighed myself yesterday, and, a BMI of 19.6 is plain STUPID, plus I ended up snabbing the belt from my morris kit in order to keep my jeans up - particularly necessary owing to all the silly puddles) and go down to M&S and buy a pair of these.  My last pair got trashed at a ceilidh.

  xxx

  • 7:40 am
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