I've got my trilby on. It's cheaper than a fedora and has the added feature of actually fitting my head. The feeling is coming back to my teeth now I've eaten something slightly more substantial than a frozen piece of cake. My essay is done. Shite but done. The sun was shining when I left and I giggled at the dogs next door, little rat things that they are, and the cleavage that assaulted me to say hello! goodbye! The stars shook their head at me as I jumped off the bus. I'm always missing my stop. I'm too used to being stuck in traffic for hours.
I have the weekend to myself before uni starts up all over again. But there's only one more deadline screaming at me. Ignoring the exams anyway. It's April. Everything will be over in a month or so and the summer will stretch before me like a great big yawn. Time to find a job, save for my dream. Money's such a fickle old thing. I'm reckless when I have it and miserable when I don't.
But for now I have roughly £3 in my purse and a trilby over my hair and my bad eye. The word document is blue and white and waiting for me. There's a half a stupid grin on my face because the night is young and my mind is racing. The guitar on my stereo moans and screeches and I flex my fingers, ready.
Fuck tomorrow and the inevitable realisation that everything I've written is a pile of shit. Tonight I am a fucking goddess and you will bow down to me.
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3 comments:
It feels so fucking great, doesn't it?
Also, the capitals on your blog roll? LOL.
Shan't.
Feels bloody brilliant. Even more so waking up and the words are actually still good.
The capitals had to be done. I forgot, opened up her blog, remembered, shut it and music continued to play from nowhere. I thought I'd been hacked by fake lesbians.
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