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.
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