Uppers:
1) I had the best food-day at work other the other day. One group of traders who sit near me got a veritable TON of sushi delivered as a gift from their brokers who were looking to suck up to them. About 20 of us tucked in the end. I stuffed my face and there was still food to spare. I’d barely recovered from this gluttony when someone else got the fancy cakes in from the french bakery here. I moved in and got a generous slice each chocolate cake and some rhubarb tart (the positive health benefits of fruit tart obviously negating any calories in either slice). I was just about ready to call it a day, then the guy who sits behind me decided to get some ice creams in – it was one of the three hot days we had last month. Anyway, I was foraging through the bag when TC came round to get an ice-cream of his own. I had my hair up and was wearing a top that had a scooped back; he was standing so close behind me (in eagerness for ice cream, sadly) that I could feel him breathing on my shoulder blade. I almost melted. In fact, I’m surprised my ice cream didn’t burst into flames as I took it out of the bag. He quickly realised that I’d taken the last Magnum and was pretty gutted. Now, I may love TC, but evidently I love Magnums more. I just tapped him lightly on the chest with it and wished him better luck next time. This is basically the same as me covering him in ice cream then covering him in me. Almost. Part of me now wishes I’d saved the wrapper so I could keep it under my pillow. Or, better yet, cast some kind of voodoo love spell. Maybe some other time. He continues to show less-than-zero interest. What’s a girl to do?
2) Now live in palatial new abode which I moved into a couple of months ago, which coincided with me not updating very much. Partly because it took Sky about a month to sort out my broadband. Although I do LOVE Sky. With 40 hours of recording time, there’s always SOMETHING to watch and I’ve seen a couple of weekends melt away into nothingness as a result. Ah well, blame it on the lack of summer that we’re having. I have now fulfilled 2 of my life’s dreams (no mean feat) in one swoop a) I have Sky for the first time b) I live in a 2-bed with the second bedroom acting as second wardrobe. For the first time ever, I also have more bookshelves that I have books. Although still had a bit of a book quandary; the Twilight books are languishing on a bottom shelf, shielded from view by an unutterably dreary financial tome and the self-help books (which are legion) are currently taking up a shelf in my bedroom. Obviously will need to strategically move out of the way if I ever hope to be able to bring a man-fellow back. I used to live with someone who had a sleepover after a first date when she had copies of He’s Just Not That Into You and Why Men Love Bitches in plain view on her bedside table. Woeful lack of planning. Remarkably, she never heard from him again afterwards.
3) Only in my world could this be an upper. Remember the shopping injury? It’s got worse. And now my wrist hurts pretty much all the time. I got a new coat and the angle of the pocket means that even getting to my tube pass causes a dull ache. This is obviously a downer. BUT, the massive upper is that (brace yourselves) I am now being referred to a sports doctor. Yep. This is my greatest (only) sporting achievement ever. Have no idea what he’s going to make of me . Out walks an elite athlete, hell-bent on gold in 2012 and in walks me, hell-bent on gold cards: “So, I, like, totally overdid it with the candles in Bendels, y’know?”. Can hardly wait. It also puts some distance between my physio and I, which is probably a good thing. I had a sorta feeling that maybe he was enjoying our sessions more than your average wrist-rubber should and a couple of weeks ago he stroked my foot in a way that would have been vaguely inappropriate even if I’d had a foot injury. Lest we forget, it’s my wrist that he’s treating. I’m not going to sue or anything, but i think it’s wise that we have a trial separation for a while.
Downers:
1) The Big Desk Move is planned for this month. Not only does this mean that Dave (*retch* :)) will be lurking around my floor – I come out in cold sweats and shudder whenever I think about it – but also, in devastating news, TC will go from being one row behind me (approx 15 feet) to being around nine rows behind me. And I’m going to be sitting next to someone super-duper important who is a) WELL old and not remotely hot and b) likely to have zero-tolerance for my fondness for going on internet gossip sites and saying ‘fuck’ a lot. Gah.
2) Remember the Top Trump? I DID message him on Facebook the week after my chick flit to apologise. I’ve just been too busy watching re-runs of the Golden Girls on Sky to tell you about it. After all, chances were I’d run into him again someday (Emily has 2 parties a year, after all) and it might be kinda awkward, so I wanted to smooth the waters – and any ruffled feathers. I was short but sweet:
Hey, hey,
Just wanted to apologise for legging it so abruptly on Sunday. I’ve checked Debretts and it definitely wasn’t correct etiquette.
Minding my manners,
[Me]
x
Over 2 months have now passed and no reply. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. And I think, well, fine, I can’t really expect him to make me feel better for running out on him because it wasn’t the most flattering thing I’ve ever done and oooh, actors, egos etc but even so. Annoyingly, I’m not remotely annoyed about it, but it’s fair to say that I’m a teensy bit paranoid that I’ve been badly reviewed. I guess I’ll find out at the bottom of my next bottle of rum.
3) Otherwise I’m super-cheerful, thanks. The 3rd downer was going to be Dave-related but I actually think I’m going to expand it out into a longer post on its own. And it doesn’t really fit as a downer, it’s more a collection of realisations. So give me a couple of days to knock it out and then we’re probably turning a page for good. Watch me grow 🙂
Uppers 3
Downers 2
Result.
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