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Weatherwise, a fantastic day that meant I could start it off with breakfast on the patio with mum and Andrew, munching on croissants and watching the horses and foal playing in the field at the bottom of the garden. I thought I was going to have to cancel last night, and ended up sleeping under my fleece on the settee, feeling sick. I dropped off eventually (to sleep, not from the settee) and woke up this morning feeling much much better. Perhaps it was the rather strange vegetarian sausages, which were not the ones I normally buy. Someone on the Berlin trip who used to work in an old peoples’ home told me they looked “like old mens’ willies” and I couldn’t bring myself to buy any this time around.

I came home and took my mouldy quiche back to Asda and showed it to the pierced girl at customer services. ‘Ewww,’ she said. ‘Do you want to swap it for another one.’ I told her this one had rather put me off the idea and she said she was not surprised. She gave me back my money.

I went back to the flat, but the weather was far too good to stay in, so we drove to St Osyth to meet Trevor and Jon over by the barbed wire. I took proofs and in spite the tanned men having sex just the other side of our windbreak managed to get through about 40 pages before the clouds turned the sand nippy cold and forced us back into the car. We drove around looking for a tea shop but everywhere (candyfloss and chip shops aside) was closed on account of the bank holiday.

We ended up heading for home, cutting across country to avoid the traffic, and heading for Pizza Express for a very pleasant dinner, ratty child on the next table aside.

Back to work tomorrow after four days out of the office, and I intend to make it to the gym beforehand, too. It’s going to be a shock to the system. I made things a bit easier by going to the station and buying my train ticket from a machine after we’d finished our pizzas, and was briefly impressed that it said next time I wanted to buy one I could just put in my card and it’d print out another the same. Then I thought of the implications and was immediately less impressed. Regardless of the fact someone who uses the same line could steal / find my card and use it for free tickets, it also means Great Eastern can now match my name to a regular journey, and that regular journey to my bank details. Should I be worried? I’m not sure.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 27th, 2001 at 11:31 pm and is filed under Journal, Picture story. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.