red wine, the sofa and my laptop perched on my knee as I watch trashy tv; the perfect anedote to an absolutely rubbishy crap day. ok so i started off extremely irratable... but the rest of the day did not in any way attempt to rise me out of my self deprivating bad mood. shuffled down the hill (scarf clad) to the train station, only to be greeted by those ominous orange men on the tracks. as i rounded the corner hoping and praying and even promising those above that i would be good (until lunchtime...) if those orange men didn't mean my train would be late, i peered up at the station screen... HURRAH! orange men weren't the all terrible omen... by the way I hate trains... officially... although they have actually behaved themselves quite well today.
ok so maybe you're thinking my train joy may have brightened my mood.. nah.. my book dissapointed me on the journey, heroine got all mopey about men, and im VERY anti-men for a few weeks due to post break up with the ex. talking of which (men by the way, not the ex), my funniest and most embarassing moment of the day concerned the latter and caused a great amount of laughter between my friend and I at work. For the past half an hour, I'd had that sensation (without wanting to feel vainly big-headed) that a guy was watching me from afar. After realising that I knew him, i changed my opinion of him; from weird stalker guy to nice friendly waiter from next door, i forgot... Thirty minutes later whilst serving one of those slightly cocky table of regulars but who are charmingly quite nice, I heard my name being called and a voice calling out if he could please have my number. Glancing strickenly at the table of witty businessmen i had just been speaking to, i threw a glance at what I thought was a 'friendly waiter guy' and squealed "Not NOW!" and ran off in the saftey of serving another table. God knows what the business men thought...
what followed for the remained of the afternoon, with my foul mood still intact, was a cafe absolutley full to the brim of annoyingly fussy customers, including a table of five americains intent of pestering me with the individual ingredients of every single dish we serve. my reward to myself for dealing with such 'lactose-gluten-meat-free/intolerent' people, was to treat myself to a nice cup of soup of the way to my spanish class and allow my gaze to once again rest on hot guys... ahhh what they must think of me.. oh well at least i have my red wine and the sofa and my lovely place to rant and rave. xx
