Then my temp gig fell through, so I was deprived of another noisy day in Soho, at the corner of Dean and Carlisle, entering Finnish and Danish and Swedish email addresses into spreadsheets (favorite: firstname.lastname@example.org) while listening to cars on the Very Small Streets below honk and honk and honk.
Then, I get home, and on the way, I have to walk outside. Normally, in April, that’s a good thing. But jeez, I just have one thing to say:
ENOUGH ALREADY! Enough with the cold! Enough with this pseudo-winter and faux spring. Enough with English crap weather.
Then I hung out and didn’t do the work I should have done at home. Well, I did do the dishes, and I ate leftovers (aren’t I a good girl?), but I didn’t get much writing done.
Then, at 7:15, no word from Colin, I call him. There is no hope in his voice. He is giving me that “I am never coming home, maybe” sound. “Or maybe I’ll be there in 20 minutes.” I go dead inside.
At 9:00, no word from Colin. So much for our evening having a little dinner and going to the pub. I go mental and get talked down from the ledge by Frances.
She sends me this photo (above) in my email to cheer me up. It’s her parents, Joe and Claudette, on New Year’s Eve, and it reminds me:
MY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION: Try and be more positive.
UPDATE: For general review of how I am doing, see Joe’s face (pictured).
So, how are you doing?