i-want-more

I get a funny feeling inside of me...

Soundtrack: the music from Super Mario Galaxy, over and over and over again

I have just had one of the worst weeks of my professional life. Given that it's Friday night and I have managed to shake off the misery I came home with three hours ago, I am not going to go into detail.

Aside from that...there were a couple of observations that I made this week that I wanted to make here: they made me laugh and cry, in that order.

A couple of days back I was reading the Sun over someone's shoulder, and I saw these two headlines, on almost consecutive pages:

'JAIL BREAK-IN TO GIVE TRANNIE LAG KNICKERS'
and
'I CAN'T STOP GIVING SEX TO FELLAS AT BUS DEPOT'

Jesus. I spent the rest of my bus journey bemused but very tickled (and no, I didn't ask the driver if he had been on the receiving end of the nookie offered in the paper).

On Wednesday evening I went out with some work colleagues, ice skating. It was fun I suppose (although the people I went with are quite sweet I don't want to have to do it again. If this week is anything to go by I won't be in the job much longer anyway, ta very much). It was at a rink next to the Tower of London, which I haven't visited since I was a small girl.

I have quite a few memories of visiting London as a child. It stuck with me, I suppose because it always represented a route out of my life in Devon. When I was on the rink I remembered the Tower, the crushing boredom that was the Crown Jewels and the ravens through a six-year old's eyes. I also remembered the Tower of London activity book I used to own, and that I used to be a little obsessed with the story of the Princes in the Tower.

Typically, because it is January, I was also reminded of my Dad. Eighteen years ago this week he was still alive and he was happier than he'd been in a few years - he had a job he loved and he'd recently paid off the mortgage. He was so proud of being from London and spoke of Bermondsey like it was the land of milk and honey (when really, it is the land of Jade Goody). The sheer pain and misery I felt when he died is still with me, but rather than having an anchor around my neck, it's just a small weight in my pocket. That doesn't mean I don't feel it any less. I feel it every damn day.

I didn't let my colleagues see me shed a tear, of course.

posted by deafdisco @ 10:00 pm