A tank top and some tights...
Didn't sleep much last night for various reasons, because I don't like hearing all the noises at night as I have an over active imagination, and a creak becomes a mice infestation, and a thud becomes the footsteps of the grim reaper, that sort of thing. Plus being home alone means there is no one to tell me to not spend ages on the internet reading Michael Jackson trial transcripts.
So after two hours of sleep, I got up and started my day. Oh how many hilarious mishaps it is possible to have!
Firstly, the whole point of getting up was to make dinner so that I could eat straight away when I got back from Spanish that evening. Mmmm, marinate some chicken, make some kebabs, take 5 mins to grill, excellent. Only after 10 minutes hard marinating did I realise that we didn't have any skewers. Not to worry, I'll fry the chicken and have curry.
Then somehow I set my finger on fire and now have an attractive and very painful burn.
Then it took me ages to work out how to get through the ticket barriers at the tube station, until I realised I was using my work security pass and not my oyster card.
Then on the train I faced a dilemma. My hands were massively cold from walking to the station, but my finger was all burnt and hurt to move it. So I was trying to warm my hands up while reading the Metro and while not touching the burnt finger. As usual my impersonation of a retard was spectacular.
Then at work, my security pass didn't seem to working, oh wait, it was actually my oyster card...
Spent most of the morning struggling to do logic puzzles, in between trips to the coffee machine. Where I would invariably fail to put any coffee in and just come back with a cup of milk.
Made it back home in time for a sleep before babysitting, which was quite amusing as I tried to teach a 5 year old to play pool and she didn't realy get it. The concept of not being able to move the balls except by hitting the white ball seemed a bit advance.
Then I went off to Spanish in the snow, it was cool watching all the snowflakes swirling in the headlights. Spanish was really hard, my brain wasn't in gear after half term. It was quite funny though, we had an amusing conversation about what was Spanish for tank top, and someone finally pointed out that one of the blokes in the class is shit at everything except the eating and drinking topic...
Then I got home, pleased that the burn didn't hurt so much any more and that I had avoided any more hilarious mishaps. Then I went to cook my curry, starving hungry, only to find that the only rice we had took 30 minutes to cook...
So after two hours of sleep, I got up and started my day. Oh how many hilarious mishaps it is possible to have!
Firstly, the whole point of getting up was to make dinner so that I could eat straight away when I got back from Spanish that evening. Mmmm, marinate some chicken, make some kebabs, take 5 mins to grill, excellent. Only after 10 minutes hard marinating did I realise that we didn't have any skewers. Not to worry, I'll fry the chicken and have curry.
Then somehow I set my finger on fire and now have an attractive and very painful burn.
Then it took me ages to work out how to get through the ticket barriers at the tube station, until I realised I was using my work security pass and not my oyster card.
Then on the train I faced a dilemma. My hands were massively cold from walking to the station, but my finger was all burnt and hurt to move it. So I was trying to warm my hands up while reading the Metro and while not touching the burnt finger. As usual my impersonation of a retard was spectacular.
Then at work, my security pass didn't seem to working, oh wait, it was actually my oyster card...
Spent most of the morning struggling to do logic puzzles, in between trips to the coffee machine. Where I would invariably fail to put any coffee in and just come back with a cup of milk.
Made it back home in time for a sleep before babysitting, which was quite amusing as I tried to teach a 5 year old to play pool and she didn't realy get it. The concept of not being able to move the balls except by hitting the white ball seemed a bit advance.
Then I went off to Spanish in the snow, it was cool watching all the snowflakes swirling in the headlights. Spanish was really hard, my brain wasn't in gear after half term. It was quite funny though, we had an amusing conversation about what was Spanish for tank top, and someone finally pointed out that one of the blokes in the class is shit at everything except the eating and drinking topic...
Then I got home, pleased that the burn didn't hurt so much any more and that I had avoided any more hilarious mishaps. Then I went to cook my curry, starving hungry, only to find that the only rice we had took 30 minutes to cook...