Monday Yawning

This morning was good in the following ways:

- I didn't wake up dead
- All my limbs were still attached
- My head hadn't fallen off

I counted my blessings, like you're supposed to, and I could come up with those three.

However, in the other camp:

- I hadn't slept enough
- I got up too late to wash my hair
- I couldn't find my cocoa body butter so I had to use crap body lotion
- My bedroom is a tip and I kept treading on things
- I have no nice or clean clothes
- It was raining
- I went to the cash machine and it laughed in my face, lit a neon sign saying 'LOSER' and painted a big 'B' on my forehead.
'B' for Broke.
'B' for Beggared.
'B' for Bloody hell I've run out of money four days before pay day AGAIN.


Actually, perversely this last one cheered me up. Four days isn't bad. I have travel covered in the shape of my Oyster card, I have food at home and at work and I don't have any expensive plans this week. I earn pittance and I live in one of the most expensive cities in the world. Of course I'm going to run out of money before pay day. It's not a disaster, just inconvenient. I'll have to lay off the Champagne for breakfast for a bit, and the throwing diamonds at pigeons habit will have to stop, but I think I can cope. It kind of makes me laugh at myself, really.

I took my cello in to be fixed on Saturday morning. It was a heavy journey. My arm still aches from the weight of it. They're going to fix it and put a new strap on the case so I can break my shoulders instead of my arms whenever I have to go anywhere. I'm meeting Janie on Sunday for a rehearsal, and to be honest I'm really nervous. I have always approached my cello playing with much more trepidation than my singing, and I am petrified that I won't be good enough. I suppose the worst that can happen is that it'll turn out I'm not good enough and I don't do it, which would be a trifle upsetting but not a disaster. Not like if my head fell off in the middle of the night, or I suddenly became so fat I couldn't sit in chairs with arms.

I watched the end of a football match last night. Call me crazy, but I can't help having a sneaking suspicion that there is some kind of, oh, I don't know, some kind of event, perhaps, going on? To do with football? Like some kind of league? Maybe not. Anyway there was a match last night, and being the gracious girlfriend that I am we sat down and watched it. Well, the last ten minutes. It was very exciting. Apparently. Then we spoke French with some Frenchmen, who complimented us both on our mastery of the language and then bought us a glass of wine, which sat very nicely with the two bottles we had already consumed.

I all of a sudden can't think of anything else to write. Maybe you could suggest something for me to write about? I would like that. Ask me something. Or give me a word. Or pay me a compliment. Or give me a foot massage. Or some money. Or a packet of Brannigan's Roast Beef and Mustard crisps. Or a pony (magical or regular). Or something.