Theft, Oil Paints, Pubs

On Friday, I narrowly avoided having my phone stolen.  Entering the gym changing rooms, I caught a woman mid-act, standing by my jacket.  I checked my pockets.  She said, "What are you looking for?" and I said "my phone."  She flashed a phone -mine- at me and said, "well this one is mine."  I went out and breathed a moment to make sure it wasn't just paranoia.  Then I went back in and it was there on the bench beside her.  I grabbed it, said that is my phone.  She said "I'm glad you found it."  Basically, that sums up Friday.

Until, several missed buses and a missed train later, I sat on Platform 8 at Stratford in the interesting weather and felt awash with peace.  I realised, it doesn't matter that much.  It's all just for fun.  So I had a really good night with A and K, the last for a while as A goes back to Durham tomorrow (today, now.)  We were quite civilised.  We ate at Cosmo before giving ourselves over to the joys of wine and A and I left early after promising ourselves we wouldn't get caught up and hammered like last time.  On the train home I felt a tiny bit blue and began to wonder why on earth NC is avoiding me.  What with being me and being tipsy, I inadvisably called her but (un)fortunately, she did not answer the phone.  The 4-month mystery stays unsolved.

Today at "work" happiness made me clumsy.  I volunteer at a small vegan cafe, Walthamstow's finest and only, with a very interesting collection of people.  M offered to pay me £10 an hour to help with an artistic project that involves chisels, hammers, wood and good oil paints.  He also said I can take as many vegetables as I like if I help.  He is quite intense.  Once I let him read a story I had written and it made him cry.  Sometimes I feel awkward because the third time we met he was drunk and I was getting there and he declared that he was in love with me.  An awkward situation.  It isn't right to lead somebody on- but I do really like wood and hammers and paint-spatter.  He smiles a lot and sometimes looks as though he sees a picture I don't. 

I was working with Kt.  I like working with her.  She has funny stories about her flatmates, which must sometimes be less than funny to live through. I don't know that being woken at 4 a.m. to the sound of someone pretending to do a strenuous poo, or talking to himself loudly.  But it's all in the telling and she tells it so well.

After work I went over to SM's house.  We watched The Voice and BGT and then the new Wuthering Heights with Kaya Scodelario.  (I had to buy it, as a Blockbuster Leyton- which utterly, utterly reeks of sewage- did not have a copy.  So much for embracing optimism!)  It was interesting.  A few too many shots of desolate moors, even considering that that is the setting.  And some very uncomfortable moments.  It was a fun, relaxing night.  Really needed it.  And SM, being a trainee physio, had a look at my weird shoulder- result!  Last 86 and 257 and short walk home.

Spurs lost again.

I am currently reading 3 books.  Half-poems get half-written.  I'm a bit wired in the moments between epiphanies on train platforms.  And in the moments between epiphanies and scrawled poems, I feel very quiet and I want to drink very much, or sit very still.