baby I got your money

I have cheered up somewhat since yesterday, which is good. I bought some wine on the way home, and got home to find SB already there with a box of chocolates and some wine for us all, to say thanks for letting her stay. I offered to go with her to her new house (which, incidentally, is in Hackney, about a three minute walk from the first house she ever lived in, bizarrely enough), but she said she'd be fine, but I went to the station with her anyway, because she had heavy bags. It was just as well really because the train was cancelled and we went to the pub and then went to see the baby foxes. I was quite sad to see her go. I'd got so used to her being there, having one of my best friends at home. I mean, I have #1, but she always has stuff to do, because she works so ridiculously hard. Me and SB are slackers through and through. She once had a teacher say to her "it's a shame there isn't an A-Level in Idleness, because you'd really excel." I went home and hung out with #1, and said something witty that #1 put in an email to some guy but I've now forgotten what it was. I called my brother, mini-Lamb, for a bit. After talking for a bit, I asked to speak to our mum (or "my mum", as he insists on calling her). "Do you not remember our conversation the other day?" he asked me. Hmm, vaguely. "Do you not remember what I told you about mum?" he asked. Again, vaguely. Turns out she's in Devon and I was told this. I asked him about the empty envelope she'd sent me, and turns out that middle-Lamb got one too. Why would you send any empty envelope? I was so excited to get post that wasn't a bill or similar, and saved it until late in the day, and it was bloody empty. I was so annoyed. I threatened divorce. I want proper mail.

Anyway, after all of this, I'd had a bottle of wine and I was a bit bored. #5 came back from some spying mission and we sat in the kitchen and ate caramelised onions and talked about spread-betting and other corporate finance stuff. She was like, wow, you know way more than some of the people who invest with us. And I was like, well, I have read 'Principles of Corporate Finance' you know, and one day I'm going to make a fucking killing on the stockmarket, even though I find the whole thing immoral. I'll be a goddamn millionaire and I can buy some fucking shoes, finally.

She went to bed about midnight, and I thought to myself, well, I've just opened this bottle of wine, it would be a shame to waste it. Being already very drunk, I decided this was an excellent plan, and I sat on my bed and listened to Daft Punk and read a very interesting article about fuel correction. At about 2, I was really bored and wanted to talk about Chaos Theory, so I called up G and we ended up getting in trouble with his dad, and I finally passed out in a drunken stupor at god knows what time, but not before writing a story that I might put up here (if only because I write such bollocks when drunk but think I'm being well creative cos it's red wine, innit). Yeeaaaah.

This morning I went to the doctors and they think I might have dislodged something in my hip, and I'm going for x-rays on Tuesday. I am very unhappy about it, as it might mean no more ballet. But the x-rays and MRI scan will surely tell me, though in the mean time it means me having to take off my clothes of yet more doctors and be prodded while they try to diagnose me. Still, I'd rather be prodded a bit and feel faintly stupid than be in this pain for much longer. Amusingly, as I was taking off my jeans, my tobacco fell out of my pocket, and the doctor was like "do you only smoke tobacco?" Errr, yes, unless you count all the crack... Do I look like a stoner? Admittedly I looked pretty hungover this morning, but still. He asked if I had thought about quitting. I said yes, I had, but to be honest, there was too much crap in my life at the moment and smoking was one of the few solaces I had, and if he'd like to sort out the train wreck that is my life then I would be more than happy to stop smoking.

I miss the aeroplanes.