11am on a Friday morning and I am at home. I often fantasize about being at home when stuck at my desk at work, but now I'm here, I'm bored and can't be bothered to do anything. My room's a tip, and last night Large Northern Flatmate and I ate all the chocolate meant as stocking fillers for my neices.
We are subhuman scum.
I woke up at 7.30am all bunged up, so I text'd my boss - the coward's way out - to say I wasn't coming in today. I suddenly felt wide awake. There goes my lie-in.
Last night, after a lovely anonymous tip-off that this blog was reviewed in yesterday's London Lite and failing to find a copy, I had to call my mate Jimmy, who was waiting in the wind for a train and trying to stay vertical in his crutches. I had to tell him that I have a blog (I'd been keeping it private as I didn't want to be encumbered by what friends may think - plus I wanted to slag the fuckers off), and could he see this paper lying around anywhere? We hung up.
A few minutes later and my mobile rang.
'Hello Fwengebola,' said Jimmy with the smug satisfaction gained from being privy to a secret. Had I managed to track down my own copy, I would not have felt it necessary to enlist a friend to find one.
But I felt better when he told me that I put him in a very socially awkward position. The only copy of London Lite he could find was on the stomach of a sleeping commuter, forcing Jimmy to smack the man's leg with his crutch and cough loudly, then casually asking the now alert man if he could borrow his paper.
I ran into the living room to tell Large Northern Flatmate, an unemployed yet aspiring scriptwriter, that my blog (which he has always sniffed derisively at and refused to go near) has been suddenly and inexplicably mentioned in one of London's evening papers.
'Congwatulations', he muttered half-heartedly. Yet there was a pause. A slight, almost imperceptible silence, and a grimace of the eyes, showing just the right amount of pain, discomfort, nausea and agony I wanted to see, the perfect end to what was becoming a very enjoyable day.
Victory is mine.
Tonight is a get-together I'd arranged about two months ago and didn't plan on being ill for. I used to work for a ruthlessly inept exams board and quite fancied meeting up with everyone for Christmas. So I will dose up on Lemsips and head down. Plus much later tonight, The Hobo will be ending his work's Christmas party at the hell that is Roxys. I refused to go to when Hobo mentioned it but I'll probably end up there anyway.
HAPPY CHANNUKAH ~ CHEERS!!!