the dying of the late. nothing so glamorous. Rather that yesterday inequalities in the workplace left me fuming up the street and because it gets dark at 4pm now and it had rained most the whole day, it wasn't hard to get in the 'Woe is me' mindset.
and then i realised i was about to start on a pity party worthy of the unexamined life living gents over on wivesgone.com forum (please note this is NOT an endorsement of that site. i am somewhat fearful of the fact that none of them have noticed that nothing have ever 'resolved itself' in a postive way in the real world).
I was shocked and appalled to find myself emeshed in blame culture.
so i gave myself a wee shake and headed straight to Stargreen ticket sellers where the nicest lady in the world sold me a ticket for Josh Ritter (go to www.myspace.com/joshritter for one of the most esoteric sporadic blogs i've come across) next week at Hammersmith Apollo.
With that, i was revived (i am also considering asking for a job in the ticket office, for spare time, as she was such a sweetie). and then i took my mother's (AKA Mopsie or Moogie after Quark from Star Trek DS9's Ferengi mother - did i mention that i feel kindred with the Ferengi but where they're all about the latinum i'm all about Music and Shoes?) advice and got me a magazine (Q - the new look version. Now heavily vandalised with my 'right-to-reply' comments) and the biggest Caramel Macchiato with extra foam in the world and sat in the window of Starbucks (yes, i know starbucks is wrong, bad coffee and overpriced. but caramel is GOOD)(and if you stretch out both arms here in the Big SMoke, you automatically touch a starbucks coz they're everywhere. Nearly more prominent than blooming idiots in dodgy branded gear trying to force free 'news'papers on ya.)
The world was set to rights in short order. And i was still home in time to look at Albert on Make me a SuperModel - Google it if you're not british. He is a MaHoney who needs to go to my room.
see. look. the world. it made sense again.