The Plan

Hmm I'm not really sure what I was talking about there. Based on the events that transpired subsequent to that last post, I can only assume that my plan was as follows:

1. Go to bed smirking with an undue sense of optimism about the next 24 hours.
2. Awake to a sensation I can only describe as "Ugh.... please no."
3. Provide yet more evidence that my mother's disappointment in me is well founded and receive the 'burning the candle at both ends' talk.
4. Go to work wishing I was dead, feeling very dehydrated with red eyes and no doubt smelling like a tramp. [Ed. "Tramps may well be loveable rogues, but they smell like ass."]
5. Spend my day with my head in my hands while parts of my brain implode.
6. Return home and don dressing gown.

If this was indeed my plan, as mentioned last night while very inebriated, then I'd say that it was a resounding success and that I am a master tactician. Then again, we all knew that already.

The day has not been without its highlights though. For starters, I'm not dead - despite praying to every God I could think of for the sweet release of my head actually falling clean off my shoulders. I can scarcely imagine the excitement - if indeed that's the right word - that my spontaneous head displacement would cause in the office. Secondly, I'm now home and can proceed to spend the rest of my evening in bed chillin' like a villain.

Another highlight is thanks to my mother's keen negotiation skills. This merits a new paragraph, as it needs explaining. While getting ready to go to the house party last night (I was 20 minutes late in the end - not bad by my standards), I decided to wear my new jeans that I picked up in Debenhams the other day. My previous favourite pair have become subject to many holes over the course of time, but they've now developed a rather unfortunate crotch window that has consequently rendered them ill-advised evening wear; especially in these cold winter months. I therefore set out to find a new pair of jeans that were as close as possible in style to my previous favourites. Luckily the Sonneti section of Debenhams was able to furnish me with exactly what I wanted, much to my surprise. On a quick side note, after checking the Debenhams website, I am displeased to see that said jeans have dropped down by £9 in the 5 days since I purchased them - oh well. Anyway, [Ed. "This has become an incredibly long, drawn out paragraph for a not very interesting story."] last night I was about to put on the aforementioned jeans when I noticed that the shop assistant had left the ink-filled security tag still attached to the jeans - as such I was unable to wear them for the evening. My mum took them back to Debenhams today, while I was at work, to have the security tag removed and managed to walk away with a compensatory £5 voucher. Therefore I think I'll treat myself to a nice t-shirt or something from there on Saturday.

Right, the time has come, the walrus said - I'm off to sit in bed and watch telly while my brain shrinks like an old balloon. I'll leave you all to amuse yourselves in whatever debauched manner seems fit to you. Alternatively, you can listen to this song:

Adele - Hometown (Axwell Remode Remix]

It's making me feel ready to throw some shapes on Friday night already.