Royal

I'm having my feet rubbed whilst I'm in a deep think. It's my idea of paradise. Minus my headache which is yet again white wine induced. But I had a super fun night out with my bloke (this is only funny to him and I). Soho in the summer. But then it turned into our non-offensive night out in Angel at the Old Kings Head, opposite the Old Queens Old where it's the most eclectic group of people, mostly around 45 but the dj who is some middle aged man, plays really fun songs and we just danced in the corner and sang along. Sometimes I forgot how much fun Chris and I can have on our own.

When the pub closed at 2am, we walked down Essex rd. to what I have dubbed "f**k city" (it's real name is Food City but I stole the joke from Arrested Development) to get some cash then on to kebab place for a cheeseburger. But the stars were shining, heavily, and I thought, I"ll let Chris tend to the meat and I'll head home. But home from essex rd is freaky deaky as there are a lot of hoodies that lurk about, and I got scared and took off my shoes and ran home (ummm...???) I then sat in our bed (things are heavily blurry now) only to hear a knock of the window. Now this is most confusing as our bedroom is at the front of the house and there is a light well in between our window and the road i.e. there is no ground minus a flower box which Chris decided to scale (this could have had astronomic injuries including impallement and/or castration and/or death). He came in, I ate half the cheeseburger and went to bed.

And now I need another one. Chris offered to heat the other half of mine up but it's been sitting in the bin all night. I refused this offer. And he's unfortunately stopped rubbing my feet.