My plans to leave work by 4pm failed but not abysmally, and I left on a high with stuff working out suddenly and next week looking good for achieving stuff. A conversation with Roz led to my fetching the veteran fabulous red hat from the car when I moved it to the front of the building so I didn't have to haul the Ralph Lauren ludicrously heavy but it matches the shoulder bag and handbag I adore and have been using for the last couple of years - suitcase.
Did you manage to keep up there?
Wonderfully sunny day, just right for getting the top down on the red devil, my excuse being that I'd obviously not put it back up properly because it was rattly. So, out in the carpark, observed by anyone caring to look out of the window, the top came down in it's inimitable "Thunderbirds are slow" fashion. The CD player came on automatically, belting out Ray Charles, and I growled it round to reception feeling damn fine. Being about 5pm by then, there was a crowd of people waiting for the company bus back to town, watching (I'm sure they were but was pretending I didn't) the reverse Zen "Thunderbirds are slow" electronic and mechanical beep, click, whirrrrrrr of the roof going back up. Ray Charles still much in evidence.
But I bottled putting the hat on to walk back into the office.
Much admiration followed the putting on of the hat, and a sudden recognition that muslim women who wear a scarf plain don't wear hats. Ever! I'm sure there are styles that would go with the ermmm (looking it up on google ~ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hijab)
so, left the office at about 6pm, drove to Aylesbury Station in good time to catch the 7:30, leaving the red devil parked in the street behind the station so I didn't have to pay nearly £10 in case I stayed over; forgot my book but that was OK. called a couple of people from the train and felt like I'd suddenly been sprung from gaol, no baggage, no timetable, all cool.
Walking down to Baker Street for the tube, some elderly Irish chap going home with his messages told me I was the "best looking woman on the street tonight" , and walking to the Elephant from Fenchurch Street, probably not the closest place!, I got loud remarks from a group of french (tasty!) guys about my chapeau rouge and tres jolie and doubtless terribly rude comments which I didn't understand.
Whatever I looked like, I felt like a million dollars: this wearing the same clothes I'd worn to work was entirely irrelevant
~ Sid has stopped round to check out the black ash dining chairs I don't want and he needs, and I've agreed to exchange for the black ash CD units he doesn't want any more, so I'll be back later to add more to the story ....
EDIT/UPDATE to follow - sometime : the bits after this are just jottings from the day/night - ahhh the night ;)
a later bit ...
As we left the pub yesterday evening, a chap stopped me in the street and asked if I am a member of the red hat society. Amused and bemused, I replied "no, but I may start one". He is a Canadian holidaying in London and his wife is a member of "The Red Hat Society" I jsut looked it up. http://www.redhatsociety.com/
On the way home, I was serenaded off the tube at Harrow by a large group of very drunk lads singing "Lady in Red". what a hat!ETA
It was a LOT more fun than what I got round to writing earlier: loadsa cool stuff - the redirected taxi ~
Start in Fenchurch Street, direct driver to Marylebone, get most of the way there and have the LO call back, talk muzzily about how I woke him up with the just-checking couple of rings, and the beat of silence before a decisive "re-direct the taxi". Not MY fault we drank all his Bushmills, not MY fault he decided he wanted a bedtime storybefore going to sleep.
Wish I'd remembered to switch my mobile to avoid the 7:15 alarm on Saturdays. Next time I woke up, it was almost half-ten. Wish I'd left the bathroom door shut after my shower, that the dissipating moisture in the air hadn't set off the smoke alarm, or that I was tall enough to switch the bloody thing off. Naked man shambled out of bedroom, switched off smoke alarm, said no to a cup of tea and shambled back into bedroom.
Totally chilled and relaxed on the sofa all morning reading a book from his collection, feet tucked under the nearest cushion, thigh, etc. All peaceful. I think we exchanged about 50 words in total. Neither of us do mornings.
Gorgeous sunny day, still dressed for success (in the office!), wearing the now-famous red hat, wandering lazily round a few second-hand shops and only buying a really nice (but overpriced) red belt
The afternoon sitting outside a nice pub, in good company, meeting new people, having a laugh, being VERY impressed with the card tricks Mark's sleight-of-hand mate managed to perform. NOT getting toooooo drunk
Getting a text inviting me for a drink or ten with some friends in the home counties and leaving it till the last, bought my ticket home, moment to decide that I could get there by tube on that ticket, managing to find my way, finishing the book I'd carried around from lunchtime without reading any more of it.
Being picked up from the station and driven to a house and garden with the red wine open on the table waiting for me, loverly loverly food, with lots of picky bits to enjoy; gossiping, laughing, catching up and feeling healed. Organising a new website for my Saturday Specials, realising that the long lovely evening had left me enough time to get the last-but-one train which I did.
Bit of a glitch falling asleep on the train though: I'm sure I was snoring hard enough to pull the paint off the roof : I know the young lass whose eye I caught when I woke looked away very swiftly: but she and her friends were all nice asian girls and didn't extract the urine. Not where I could hear it anyway.
Walking back to get the car, which had been parked in a not-so-nice part of Aylesbury, with a flicker of concern that I might get past the hedge on the corner and find it gone. It wasn't. *BEAM*
Driving home, my own mess (oops, HOUSE!), my own bed, my own space, feeling loved up and wonderful ...
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