Sunday: on way home from Brighton, an incident causes my train to wait for thirty minutes, then return to Brighton (this has never happened before!). Upshot: a one hour journey takes 3 1/2, leaving me exhausted Monday, and I discover that I had already read the book I'd brought with me.
Monday: parsingphase, who messed his back up Saturday, decides against going to a wine tasting we'd scheduled nearly two months ago in favor of staying home so he doesn't "pull a Marilyn" (what with the painkillers he was taking). I ask about six people if they will go as it seems like a profoundly social activity: I am rudely faced with just how few people are available to do things on short notice. I think about going to the theater, but I seem genuinely too tired to manage a show. I decide to do the wine tasting myself, stay at work late, and leave in time for a slice of overpriced pizza before heading to the venue.
En route, I receive a call: the wine tasting has been cancelled.
Tuesday: actually I managed to see The Passion of Joan of Arc and make it for the 2nd half of Italian class, so this day was a success, if you exclude work.
Wednesday: I inadvertently overschedule myself for a swimming lesson (over my lunch break), Pilates, and salsa dancing. My teacher is 15 minutes late for my half hour swim lesson; after work, the person I was going to meet at salsa says he's not showing up. I fail to find anyone to do anything else with me (i.e. dinner or movie) post Pilates and decide to go to salsa anyway rather than spend the night by myself: only thanks to Pilates my ankle is now trashed. I suck at salsa, being unable to get a basic back and side step down (it's like the grapevine) and somehow managing to turn the wrong way every time - not helped by the fact the spins on my right ankle are now very uncomfortable. It's demoralizing all in all. I do sleep like a champ that night when I finally get home.
Thursday: work is a disaster. It's giving me stress dreams. I decide I'd best not do anymore dancing and reschedule for a sitting activity, in this case Scenes from an Execution at the National. It's billed as a comedy, but the greatest humor is wondering if I'm going to get flashed by Fiona Shaw as she seems to be wearing no knickers and I'm sitting with my head right at crotch level. In addition to the play not being funny, it starts half an hour late, meaning if I stay to the end I'll be making it home after 11. My roommie and I both agree to leave when the interval rolls around. Bonus: we got our money back due to the late start.
I get home and find out I owe HMRC 1700 quid due to my previous employer not taking tax out of my paycheck correctly. Well done Post Office. Fortunately this will be taken out over the course of the NEXT tax year rather than being due as a lump sum so I'm relieved. As a bonus, my phone, which had suddenly started randomly shutting down during the day again, shuts off just before the play and will not start again. I take it home and see if it's the battery being randomly out of juice but instead of anything normal happening I get a green and orange flashing light when I try to charge. This might mean the battery is screwed up or maybe not. I'm not totally phoneless as I have my work phone, which is showing me a message from my boss (sent at 5:56 PM) to find something in our defect tracker and mail it to him before I go home, which I can't do as I'm no longer at work. Yay. Cue dream about being fired waking me up half an hour early.
Friday: well, here we are. I suppose as long as my paycheck shows up, it could be worse.