back from Dublin
I’m listening to PLACEBO through headphones. K is asleep on the settee, She has been out for some beer and a curry, I have taped Coronation Street at the second attempt. (cacked it up on the first attempt).
I haven’t been able to kiss K for a week, I have a festering cold sore as big as a dustbin lid on my mush. To pass this virus on to K’s pretty face would be a sin And a betrayal. I promised never to harm her a long time ago and to bestow this on her is unthinkable. So no snogs, and I miss them so.
Dublin was ok, though I did feel a little like a stranger in a strange land. The whole “impress the lads by being able to drink a lot and cop off with some poor girl from a hen party who cant even stand up” left me cold. Still I now know that stag weekends are no longer for me. That was my last.
Went to the Guinness brewery though!
And Oscar Wilds hoose.
I went to pick up K from the curry house and she aint best pleased with me for not greeting her properly and noticing that she has had highlights in her hair.
I had a strange experience today driving back from a job. For about 30 seconds I had no idea where I was, Where I was going or where I was coming from. I was just lost and adrift, it made me scared but then it all kind of came back with a thump. Very odd.