Only the weeks we wanted, of course. This week needs to be twice as long but I want my last seven and a half weeks of work to fly past. Only the days, though. The evenings have to last longer, to make up for the 8 hours wasted at work.
Hmm. Time may be relative, but I'd prefer if we had a bit more control over what it was relative to.
Still recovering from yesterday. Mystic Meg promised me a day which would include a brush with showbiz, so I headed off to Harrods ready for anything. Would I be discovered? (I'm not sure what I'd be discovered as or for, but I was ready for it nonetheless). Would I trip over Brad Pitt and convince him that Angelina was a worthless piece of fluff and that I was the woman he'd been waiting for? (Not that I think Angelina is a worthless piece of fluff. And actually, I think they make a lovely couple).
Such possibilities - plus all the possibilities I hadn't considered - were very pleasing, so I headed into town in a high good humour. I was off to Harrods for donuts (all this talk of Krispy Kreme) and to buy a new collar for my cat.
No, she's not that spoiled, it's just that there are actually very few places in central London were you can buy pet stuff.
My first brush with showbiz came at Knightsbridge Tube station. As I headed up the escalator, I spotted an advert for Guitar Hero on those little TV screens they have on the wall, an advert that stars a buddy of mine. Well, I say starred...he's air guitaring dressed as a tennis player.
I was still laughing half an hour later. It's classic. I'm going to tease him about it a lot.
Then, donuts in hand, I walked over to Piccadilly Circus and popped into Zavvi (used to be the Virgin Megastore) to check out new CD releases. I didn't see anything interesting to buy, but I did walk past that actress from Love Soup (she's also been in an episode of Doctor Who).
Then, after that excitement had passed, I crossed the road at Piccadilly Circus (to check on the process of the Cinnabon store. Yes, I am that sad) and passed a German TV crew preparing to film some film thingie.
Oh! The glamour of it all!
So Mystic Meg was entirely correct. I did brush with showbiz three separate times, and it's not her fault that I'm not currently inked in to scribe three major new Hollywood blockbusters, is it?
But that wasn't the most exciting part of the day. Thank goodness I was still high on the sugar rush when I got home because, when I got home, my door lock had broken and I was locked out.
Now, my housing office is closed for a half-day on Wednesday. Guess which day most emergencies seem to occur on? That's right. Luckily the head office was open and they called somebody who called somebody else and, twenty minutes later, a man with a drill came to try and get me in.
It took him an hour and a half - and seven drill bits - to bore a hole through the lock and jiggle the little brass bar within. During this hour and a half I sat outside in my hallway and wondered whether it would be wrong to eat the rest of my donuts in front of him without offering him one. I erred on the side of caution and went hungry.
An hour and a half! I felt quite exhausted, watching him work away. Still, I got home at last which is the crucial thing. I still wrote my 1000 words, as well, so the donuts did their job.
No comments:
Post a Comment