It's Raining In France

On the bus today because I'm on the ale in Derby tonight. It's a good journey. The A52 is now fully open again and the new lights seem to work well, although there wasn’t really any traffic so it wasn’t difficult. August is just so nice on the roads.

L's had plenty of texts from daughter. Apparently it's raining in France, she's bored, and her half brother is annoying her. Hope L told her how sunny it is here. I’m still trying to decode the text she sent me last night.

I think L must be ignoring her because Daughter’s started texting me again. I bet L's switched her phone off. Well at least at this rate Daughter's credit will soon be gone although it's not gone yet because here comes another one.

We've checked out on the internet the place she's gone to. It looks a very posh resort. Pool looks nice. Shame she forgotten her swimsuit.

I'm having another manic day and I keep getting roped into meetings. My mind drifts in this particular meeting to something I read in the paper this morning. They were giving tips on how to hold on to that rampant desire which has you shagging in cupboards at the beginning of a relationship. Apparently you have to train your brain to turn yourself on every day. The theory is the more you start thinking about sex, the more you keep thinking about sex. Problem is, I don’t have any problems thinking about sex. One tip was that when you're at work chatting to a colleague, focus on their hands, and remember what your partner did with theirs last time you had great sex. Hmmm. It had the opposite effect on me, you ought to see some of the people I work with.

My day may be manic but it's not as exciting as L's. At lunch she though someone was kerb crawling her but then she realised that there was no one in the car. Her and another chap tried to open the doors but couldn't. In the end someone put a brick under the wheel and left the car sitting in the middle of the road with the Community Police around it. Apparently the parking ticket on had only just been paid, so they have a few hours to wait until someone comes back.

Son's been cultivating a rather fetching goatee beard. He's at the stage where hair starts sprouting out of your face in random places. So it's impossible to grow a decent beard even if you wanted to. L's bought him a razor in case he can find time for any personal hygiene. Not usually high on his list. I think she was stunned at the prices. She paid only £14, which is a stunningly good deal. Only hope it's got a beard trimmer on it. If he tries to shave that lot of in one go it’s going to hurt.

Straight off for a few beers with an old school friend after work. I have two Railway Porters 4.2%. Very nice. He had seen in the paper that the year above us at school had just had a reunion to celebrate 25 years since leaving. Blimey. We start making our own plans.

Then we go for a curry and have the most expensive pint I've ever had. £3.80 for a Cobra. Disgraceful. I've been feeling a bit rough all day and had hoped that a beer might perk me up. It has a little but not much. The curry doesn't really help either, nice though it is. In the end I couldn't manage all my Jalfrezi. Doggo will be pleased though because I stash some Keema naan in my pocket for him.

L texts to say she has a lonely dog at home who is missing me. Missing me kicking his ball more like. No mention of any lonely girls at home. I get to the bus stop and there's a queue at the bus stop so perhaps for once it hasn't gone early. Seconds later is arrives and is just as quickly gone again, all before it's allotted departure time. Luckily I manage to jump on as it passed, then we hare off down the A52 at Mach 3. L says she'll wake the dog up and come and meet me. I thought she said he was lonely not asleep.

Once back home, I still feel rough, in fact even more so. The sex with my 'lonely' girl helps alleviate my suffering.