A cynical synopsis of the weekend

I hate not having broadband at home as it means I’m always a few days behind in writing my blog. If I could write it as I went along I think I would be much happier, and also then I would be bothered to write more about what I’ve done or how I feel. As it is, I just feel like writing a list. I feel very lethargic today, I don’t know why. I fell asleep fully clothed last night, and slept really well. At about 2 I got up and took my clothes off, and continued sleeping well. At 5, I got up to have a glass of water, and after that I slept terribly and woke up feeling very strange. I also noticed that I’d bruised three of my fingers on my right hand.

On Friday I woke up to the sound of K blowdrying her hair. I was a bit disconcerted as she hadn’t brought a hairdryer with her, which meant that it must belong to T. I really didn’t want to get out of bed, as I’d only just got sufficient blanket. I think K wraps it round herself. Eventually I did, though, and I had a much needed shower. T’s bathroom is quite funny. There are three separate rooms, one with a bath and shower, one with the loo, and one with the sink. The shower didn’t have a shower curtain, so the bathroom was already quite soaked by the time I got in there (the others had their showers before me).

T doesn’t live all that far from work, so we walked in. We left his around 11, and after stopping to get a cup of tea, we finally got in at about 11:30, which I didn’t think was that bad. I had absolutely no intention to do any work, and told my colleagues so. They didn’t seem all that bothered. There’s normally four of us in the office, but on Friday there were just three, and that was only until lunchtime, when our numbers shrank to two. I sent off some emails, firstly to the Scot I kissed at the party, who’d actually emailed me first, and then to the guy I fancy. He emailed back to tell me that he’d just been sick in his bin. The Scot didn’t seem too awkward about kissing me.

During the course of the day, I went over to the beautiful boy's office twice. The first time was to see if he was okay after being sick in the bin. He said that he’d just drank a large coffee, without eating anything first. Poor thing. He looked quite pale, and he didn’t seem happy about the amount of work he had lined up. Later in the day I went back with some diet coke (it’s meant to be good for upset stomachs) and a crème egg. We had a hug, which I was (obviously) pretty pleased about. When he was going home, I saw him in the hall and he put his hand on my arm, and thanked me for looking after him all day. If he hadn’t been sick I would have tried to kiss him.

I got to the pub quite late after work as I had to call my little brother to wish him happy birthday. My mobile is terrible, and had run out of battery hours and hours before, so I used my work phone. Also, using my work phone doesn’t cost me any money. I was so tired when I got to the pub, I didn’t think I’d stay long. Myself and one of my gay friends spent a considerable amount of time proclaiming ourselves to be fabulous, and moaning about the lack of attractive men.

Approximately one bottle of wine consumed solely by me = not very clever. I ended up taking the tube to Brixton, and going to another bar. With the date-that-wasn’t guy. And then back to his. I eventually left his at about 4 in the afternoon, having spent the time shagging and sleeping. We had some really good sex, but I’m not sure that I want to see him again. It’s really mean, I know, but he’s far too small for me to take seriously (by small, I mean height- I did say it was good sex!). However, I was left with a nice memento of the night, with a bite mark on my back. Proper teeth imprints and everything. I was actually really chuffed because rather than being a typical man and not paying any attention to female anatomy, he took the time to see to my needs. I was so impressed. Clearly short men have their advantages. It's funny, out of all the people I've slept with only 3 (including this one) have ever made me come. The other two I was with for a considerable period of time (a year and 3 years, respectively), so it would seem that most of the one-night stands I've had have been crap. Like it was difficult for me to work that one out!

In one of my finest moments, I also managed to swipe his Madonna cd (the new album). Job’s a good’un.

Anyway, eventually home. Another gay friend was coming round to watch the X-Factor final, so I tidied up my room a little (it was an awful mess) while listening to the Madonna album, singing along to my hearts content. Two of my housemates were also in, so we decided to order a takeaway once my friend arrived. We were all backing Shayne (the hot one) to win. It was quite amusing as I’m not sure that one of my housemates had ever met a gay person before, or a Jew, and now a gay Jew was sitting in the living room! Everyone got on really well though, thankfully, and we had a nice time drinking sparkling wine and absolutely stuffing our faces with curry.

On Sunday, I arranged to meet friends in town to have a present handover. I felt a bit weird, a little out of sorts. I don’t know why. I even had a bath, to try and make myself feel better, but there was a power cut halfway through, which didn’t make me feel all that great. I even wore some very cool, fuschia-pink heels (not in the bath obviously, but when I was out), but I still wasn’t feeling all that great. I’d originally felt so great about having sex again, and thinking I was so cool, but by this point I just felt quite crap about it. Hadn’t I said that the next time I had sex it would be with someone I like? And the teeth marks had turned into a very fetching- and very sore- bruise, which definitely wasn’t very cool.

And then to top off the weekend, I fell asleep with all my clothes on, reading a book.

Today at work has been alright. Nothing too exciting. There was a fire drill, which meant we all had to go to the park and have a cigarette- well, the smokers did anyway. I chatted to the beautiful boy for a while earlier and arranged to go out for a drink this week, possibly tomorrow. He’s been feeling ill all weekend, and thinks that the sick-in-the-bin episode was due not to alcohol, but to the malaria tablets he’s been taking. I’ve spent a lot of time today in the smoking room, and very little time doing anything productive.

I still haven’t done my Christmas shopping. Hopefully I will feel happier tomorrow- especially if I do get to go out with the beautiful boy after work. I’m seeing some old friends on Wednesday, and meeting up with a girl from uni on Thursday, before heading off to my parents for another action packed Christmas in the countryside. Can you sense my enthusiasm??