vindice

Sunday brings the sun (although it's still frickin cold) and a little excursion to Camden with Mr Carmady. Woot! In no time at all, the Dude has a top and some Sketchers with blue plastic studs all around the soles, I have those black PVC trousers I been hunting, and a furry bra that almost definitely won't fit. So follows: noodles for lunch with Cat, an old school friend recently returned from a year's 'holiday' in Australia. Coffee and cakes in a Pizza Express where the waiter seemed to be playing a game to see how long he could ignore us. A bit of art-appreciation in the National Portrait Gallery and the Tate Modern, bit of boozing as we looked out over the river. And then home to Brum, listening to some arsehole teenage lads playing the 'how many swear-words do you know' game and calling everyone on the train, alternately, 'fucking Paki' or 'White trash.' (They were white).

So tomorrow it's the first day of the new job. Bloody hell, bloody hell.