Spent the night feeling hot under the cover and cold without it. Woke up feeling very groggy.
Fell asleep on the train to work, which is always bad. Woke up at Liverpool Street absolutely disoriented and couldn’t feel my legs. Luckily most people seemed to still be on holiday so the central line wasn’t as bad as usual. I even got a seat. Very peculiar.
My brain has some sort of glitch when it comes to remembering the door codes at work. For some reason during the 3 weeks I’m out of the office all numbers relating to accessing the office just disappear from my head completely. The receptionist must think I’m retarded asking her what the code is every time.
I was first in the office, so after copying all my files across, I had some time to browse through the messages on DA. Had no time to comment and got a bit panicky seeing my pile of deviations steadily growing, so logged out.
Started clearing the huge pile of work on my desk.
Texted happy birthday to Johanna. She replyed saying she got my card and that the doctor said the baby might come any time now, even though the estimated date is 9.5. I told her to keep her legs crossed until after the May Day party she promised to come to.
Infernally busy. Almost didn’t notice lunch time arriving. Good job I got a nudge from someone else. 🙂 Bought hair dye and booked a hairdresser for thursday. Time to get this mess sorted out.
Quarter to five I just sat there, in the silence. Waiting to go home, trying to clear my thoughts. Started writing this diary thingie. Why, I don’t know. Just felt like it.
When I got home I dyed my hair (and the duvet cover.. erm). Turned out a bit too red but at least it’s not so peculiarly blonde anymore.
Turkey pie for dinner. Have a feeling I will be well and truly fed up with turkey by the end of this week. Then I finished reading Mill Millington’s A Certain Chemistry. Albeit being very amusing and even hilariously funny at times, it left me feeling deflated. It’s too a depressing thought that all our biggest decisions/mistakes are just down to chemicals in us reacting to things. Hmm. Seems like infidelity is being shoved in my face from all directions, what with the Beckham’s all over the papers etc. When bf called I asked him not to be unfaithful, even if the chemicals make him do it. He promised. Well that’s ok then eh. And I suppose the book did finish on a promise… that no matter what mess biology gets us in, it’s still up to ourselves to try to sort it out.