Some days are sent to test you

Quite an eventful day yesterday.  Most of which I would not care to endure again.  It's the lovely Clare's birthday barbecue today and I thought since I was going into town I may as well make full use of the weekend and go in on Friday and catch up with other people.  On Wednesday I spoke to Brit and arranged to meet her in East London after she was done with work.  First I popped down to Clapham to see Deb for a coffee and to stock up on weed.  Brit sent me a text saying 'Really hungover, not going to do anything fun tonight' while I was having coffee and I thought I might be better off staying at Deb's since I was already there.  But Deb had work to do and I was keen to see Brit so I jumped on the tube.  If ONLY I had stayed ... things went downhill very quickly.

Got off the tube at Liverpool Street Station and was immediately leaped on by the police's drug sniffer dog.  Goodbye weed, goodbye £50 (a weeks income for me) and hello official caution.  Luckily possession is barely an offence and the police were really nice but I was definitely feeling a bit shell shocked and extremely annoyed about throwing £50 away.  Somehow in the process I lost the stylus to my phone ... yes my phone has a stylus, no its not from 1996 ... which I'd managed to hold onto for over a year and I'm SO annoyed to have lost it.  A couple of phone calls to Brit resulted in no reply and I ended up drowning my sorrows, solo, in a bar for an hour and a half.  Eventually I realised she wasn't going to show up so phoned around looking for SOMEONE I could share my misery with.  Stephen was out and up for a drink or two so I hot-footed it to central London.  One drink lead to another, which lead to being in Heaven at 3am with only the barest grasp of what my name was.

Somehow we got separated and Stephen ended up getting back to his flat long before I did.  I called him when I got out of Heaven and he was already home, told me to ring his phone when I got to his place.  Not only did I ring his phone, I also rang his doorbell for about 15 minutes and banged so hard on his window with my stylus-less phone that I thought I was either going to break it or wake the entire street.  All to no avail.  He was not to be roused.  Since I couldn't get anywhere useful on a night bus within three hours I laid my weary head down under a bush behind Doig's bins and tried to get to sleep.  Couple more bouts of banging on the window later it was 5:30 and I went to get the first tube home.

I wish I could've been one of the people who walked into McDonalds in Baker Street, in their suits at 6am to find me grumpily eating a Sausage Egg McMuffin as pine needles fell out of my hair and into my food.

Managed to get home and crashed into bed.  So I was arrested, abandoned and forgotten about all in one night and now I've missed Clare's barbecue ... which is totally unfair on her.  Worst thing is I'm probably going to have to go back into town - Stephen is hosting a dinner this evening to raise money for leukaemia research as it recently killed his mother (leukaemia that is, not the research).  Not really the sort of thing I should let bitter resentment stand in the way of attending!