leave the office after half 5, having finished packing up some point of sale bunf to send to customers, and in doing so missed the post office. walk to saisnbury's, get a text from ewa, who will be coming round to make some musics. i offer dinner too. i plan on making feta and spinach pasta (again, as i've still both ingredients left from the last attempt [which was nice] so i'll make it before they both go off}. so i need onions, garlic, and hell, why not, organic mushrooms and sundried tomatoes. what a feast we will have! i was delighted last time i had sainsbury's orgainc mushrooms, although i must admit, i cooked them very well.
6:15: ewa will 'set out in five minutes or so'.
7:00: text informing me she's running late. i've been internetting in the intervening time.
7:59: "i'm in the pub trying to get some energy so will be a while yet sorry. shouldn't be that long though". i respond with 'which pub? what kind of energy?' hoping i'm not being niave. i quickly text back with 'sorry, i meant why not go the pub here?'
8:40: text saying she's by the royal northern college of music. at this point i think she won't be too much longer as she is now 'in town' so to speak, the rncm being the official start of the city centre (in my book), and i chop an onion and boil a kettle (best advice my mum ever gave me) "i'm skint though so prob best to avoid pub. i'm just over tired love" she writes. i do not understand.
the feta's gone off, smells like quark, which i'm sure somepeople would like but it's not going to go with pasta. the other cheese i have is a mature farmhouse chedder - which must have earnt it's name because it smells like a dirty old barn. i throw them both away. i'm sorry regiciders. they were horrible. so it's just oniony spinachy pasta then. never mind.
10:26: "i'm half dead, think i should be best to go home for a good rest, i had a late one last night..."
eh? where's she been? what happened? what about the food i'd made? or the music, it's not like we could have started doing anything at that time of night anyway. i couldn't bring myself to text back because i couldn't not say what i wanted to say without seeming angry her. i won't go on.
anyway, no lie in for me tommorow as i'm going to nottingham to see the guys and the play there. so that'll be nice.
xx
2 comments:
if cheese is bad it's bad. just bin it.. i mean, there's always another block of cheese waiting for you in the next bin ;]
and like.. you're cheese smells nowhere near as bad as our cheese. it seriously smells like someones ass. someone who hasn't wiped or washed for a long time. i'm surprised i can actually eat the stuff. the danish hardcore are truly hardcore. sickos.
and it's a sad story. people are just weird, y'know. actually that isn't being weird. it's like more than weird. a cross between rude and weird. weirude.
and what's with the ritting blog? your brother writes too well, it's annoying.
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