I’m a wimp.
My lovely friend Charlie finally landed on Friday afternoon after an 11-hour flight; after a two-minute nap she was full of beans again and insisted on dragging my sorry ass out to the pub. I hadn’t been out on a Friday night since 1996! Yesterday was spent running up and down Portobello market, and only the mulled wine got me through. This morning I’m haggard, a hollow shell of a girl, and when she rises she’ll be ready to take on the world, whereas I’m seriously considering doing some class A with my breakfast cereal.
I’d like to pretend that my sense of empathy is so overdeveloped that I take on people’s jetlag for them, but really I’m just a wimp; in a couple days this wimp is going to Paris for a while. I wonder if I can just sleep in a café while Charlie is running around with bright eyes and a perfect complexion?
Michel Simon dans un musée du sexe ?
4 years ago
6 comments:
Remember your Berocca..and enjoy (gay) Pari'.. x
oh god, she's not a morning person is she?
*cringe*
i have one of those, it's bloody nightmarish at times.
oh, hello there charlie...
;-)
mornings are the vest times for gettign things done!
have a ball in paris
For God's sake have a word.
Bright, bouncy morning people are the devil's own, really, they are.
And with jet-lag too, it's just not right.
:-) well that's ok then, charlie.
glad you're obviously having such a good time... yay for holidays.
(i'm only mildly envious)
x
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