Just looking

‘Now that she’s back from that soul vacation’ Train – Drops of Jupiter

It’s been a bad month over all. I shall be glad when Thursday rolls around and begins November. I shall be glad to get this month over and done with. The redundancy still hangs there, suspended over our heads by mr big boss man. He seems in no immediate hurry to give us any details whatsoever. Clearly he must think we like to sit around each and every day, wasting our time & worrying about whether we’ll be able to stretch our money through Christmas.

The world situation escalates daily. I’m so sick of hearing how yet another bomb was ‘accidentally’ targeted on a civillian area. To hear a news reporter describe the deaths of innocent people as ‘civillian damage’, like it was a building or something, makes my blood boil. How much longer will the so-called civilised world continue in this vein? Until it destroys everything and everyone not with it I guess.

I reached the final straw with the car yesterday. We walked out of the house with the grocery list, ready to drive the 3 miles to Tesco when I saw my car. Some inconsiderate f*ckwit decided to rip the back bumper completely off & leave it lying in the gutter. It was enough to make me want to break down and cry right there and then. I am hoping to get rid of the damn thing this afternoon, but the lack of bumper is going to make it an even less attractive package to a dealer and I’ll be lucky to get anything for it. I can only hope that someone will agree to take it, otherwise I have no idea what I will do next.

Saturday night was good though. We went out to Osborne Road and had a few drinks there, before retiring to a local, slightly less crowded and noisy pub. After closing we went back to Neo’s and started on his alcohol collection. At some point in the early morning me & Duncan walked home and collapsed into bed. It was an enjoyable night, but did serve to remind me of why I no longer feel the need to head off out to Osborne Road. Even though we were lucky enough to get a table and seats (pre-requisite these days for us) it was crowded, noisy & expensive. I felt old. The people in the bar were either university freshers – all depressingly born in 1983 & therefore very young – or middle aged women who thought they could still get away with wearing lots of low cut, tight, sparkly clothes which made them look, as Duncan said, like mutton dressed as lamb. I sincerely hope that when I reach middle age I will not feel the need to look anything like that. It was all quite depressing in a way.

Until there is a next time…

xx