Diary of an up and coming sociopath

Following the post-christmas slump and return to London with Nikki, I spent two days at work during which there was very little work to do. In fact, most of my superiors weren’t in, which meant that the couple of large problems which occurred went mostly unresolved as members of other departments tried to find people to fix them, and me and the other product matcher who was in did what little we could. I did start doing QA on some categories, which is a new task and allows me to do what I like best - point out other people’s mistakes.

At lunchtime on Thursday I made it all the way to comic showcase and back in my break, though I discovered that this week there aren’t any new comics being shpped, or they were being shipped late, or something. I love the convenience of being able to get to a comic shop in my lunch break, let me tell you. To console myself against a wasted journey, I went and bought a Mint Matchmaker McFlurry in the same leicester square station where Nikki, Graham and I once almost found ourselves in the middle of an Asian gang fight, some time shortly before I began my blog, I believe.

After work, I met up with Nikki and after I showed her as much of where I work as is possible when you can’t get within a 12 storey radius of my desk, we got the tube back to Tottenham Court Road and went looking for a place to eat. We decided there was no reason not to go to the former Wetherspoons (now a Lloyd’s No. 1) which we have visited several times before, and had dinner there together in probably the best seat in the place, as far as i’m concerned. A nice out of the way corner booth. I successfully ordered a “latte” for Nikki despite my general disgust for the whole coffee culture concept (Coffee Republic? Did they overthrow the Coffee Monarchy?) and in a good display of karmic turnaround the fudge cake and ice cream I ordered there was so amazing that I’m planning to return at the next barely convenient juncture. We wandered around Borders for a while, and went to meet Tom at King’s Cross. By the time we got home, I’d been out of the house and in central london for around 14 hours, which in a normal case would’ve been fine, except for my festering illness. I felt like my sinuses were going to explode.

Because, indeed, part of the reason I’ve not updated of late is that since wednesday I’ve had the “flu.” Not the influenza type, nor the type that mows down pensioners like a strangely invasive lawnmower, but the kind that turns grown men into kleenex-guzzling weaklings, leaving you with pulsating sinuses and generally making your voice incomprehensibly deep and scratchy for three or four days. All christmas I’d been saying to people, “It’s amazing I haven’t been ill yet, what with riding the tube every day with all those people.” and yet I apparantly became ill while in Leamington, when I actually saw hardly anyone by comparison. Must’ve been some midlands strain I have no tolerance of anymore.

It’s been good to have Tom around for a while, getting to catch up. It’s easier to talk in a way IRC isn’t. He’s sleeping in Ian’s/the pseudoliving room on the sofa. Ian built the coffee table his father bought him as well, so we tend to congregate in there to watch cartoons and whatever these days. While Tom’s around at least. I got Friday off work and we went up to Tescos, where tom got some cheap (albeit, women’s) jeans for £4 and we loaded up with food for tomorrow’s cooking extravaganza.

The plan for later is probably to head up to Trafalgar Square, or leicester square, or somewhere in london with a square where we can all stand around and wait for the bombs to drop. At least, here’s hoping.