The Anatomy Of An Irish Day Off Running.
Fuck it, I’m definitely not running tonight. Here’s the anatomy of my day so far.
9am : Numb pain in my legs from last night run. It strangely feels great. Will sleep on until 9am. I don’t have to beg for work any more so I can pretend I’m a student again.
11am : *panic* fuck! What time is it? 11am? Time for breakfast. I head up to the Sainsbury’s Local a few doors up and plan tonight’s run. Beautiful day outside. I have Chewits and a sandwich for breakfast.
12 noon : Shower and then out the door. No idea where I’m going today. Long walk down Tottenham High Road towards Seven Sisters station. Stop in Iceland for that oddly delicious Simpsons cheese they sell for £1. Queued behind 3 people. All try paying by card. All fail. Few speak English. It seems like something is gonna kick off. Probably me if I don’t get to eat my Simpsons cheese soon.
1pm : Sick of getting off at the Victoria Line stops so change at Finsbury Park for the Piccadilly Line. Get off at Holborn.
2pm : Made the mistake of weighing myself at Boots, Holborn. Still 14 stone 7. Bit disappointed by that. It’s strange how your weight can have any sort of pull on your mood.
3pm : Have a pint and the all day brunch without beans at Shakespeare’s Head, Kingsway. It’s delicious but the only other people in the pub at this time are old people and semi-professional alcoholics. Isn’t much hope here, especially now that I’ve finished my dinner.
4pm : I’ve had another 2 pints and tonight’s run isn’t happening. The weather is too pretty outside and for once I’d actually like to enjoy London as a tourist again. For the past few months I’ve been stressing about stabilising my finances, writing & publishing the book, finding a contract and somewhere to stay that doesn’t cost £750 a month. No time to relax. All about survival. Time to relax I guess but stuffing my head full of industrial strength cider probably is overkill.
5pm : Learn with the rest of the world that Peaches Geldof was fairly fond of smack. I’m in Penderel’s Oak, High Holborn. 4th pint and it’s hit me hard. A glimpse outside into the warm summery evening and everyone seems to be moving in slow motion. Definitely looks prettier on the outside than it does in here. I can’t be fucked negotiating my way through rush hour traffic to Tottenham now though. I’m gonna have one more pint here and pray that I can practice some self control. Don’t wanna end up getting arrested for pissing in Diana’s memorial fountain.
10pm : Get home after a stop off at Subway. A boring end to a very sunny day.
Normal service will resume tomorrow motherfuckers.