Tag Archives: London

Here we go again

19 Aug

I’ve been up since 5am on account of a very, very important prospective client coming in. The very, very important prospective client left at noon, and I’ve been running around the office since trying to sort things out and catch up on everything I haven’t been doing while I was preparing for the very, very important prospective client. 

Now, it’s nearly 5.30pm, and how I wish I was heading home to eat fish fingers and watch Real Housewives. 

But I have a date tonight. And it’s too late to cancel. 

C (we will call him “C”) lives in South London (boo). Works in tech for a bank (hmm). And has quite good chat. 

This is our first date. We met on the eHarmony. 

He has booked a table for sushi at 8.30. 8.30. So late for me on a school night. What am I supposed to do until 8.30?

He has booked it at a place in Covent Garden. Hmm. Never had a date anywhere near Covent Garden that went well. Tourists, anyone?

Oh well, here goes nothing. 

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Tube stop of doom

24 Apr

Marble_Arch_stn_roundel

I went to a friend from my old work’s leaving drinks tonight. Just before I left my last job, we moved offices. Right across London. I didn’t spend long in the new office. And most of the time I did spend there I was rocking back and forth in tears post pizza of doom.

So heading back to West London tonight and jumping off the tube at Marble Arch station brought back a few memories of that horrific month. I felt so drained that I couldn’t face the tube back then. I used to take a very long bus ride to get home. And cry the whole way. Listening to Taylor Swift. Yeeesh.

So how did I feel being back there?

Honestly, like the whole thing was a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. The past nine months are a blur. I have no idea how I got here.

But I’d rather be here than back there.

First day back in the office

25 Nov

It is hard being back in London. I feel like I’ve gone back in time and everything is reminding me of him with renewed ferociousness. My bus journey, my walk to the office, everything just sucks. I hate it all. Why can’t I go back to last year and be the happiest cat alive that I had met him? Why can’t he pop up on MSN and tell me I’m beautiful?

Because he dumped me. That’s why.

Oh, yeah, and he was never in love with me anyway.

I walked straight into the most confusing briefing ever at work. I have loads to do, over 200 emails to sort through, half my team appears to be off sick/on holiday/out of the office.

I just don’t like my life any more. I feel overwhelmed with sadness. And I don’t know how to change it.

Cheerful autumn thoughts

28 Oct

Hmmmmm.

My blog has been a little morose of late. I can imagine you are all tired of hearing me whine. I’m worse than Carrie Bradshaw at her most self-centred (when she cheats on Aidan).

So here’s some good stuff I want to share:

1. The storm that is about to “devastate” London (weather people are so dramatic. I think it’s an inferiority thing from working alongside journos who are reporting on politics and world events and crime, while they are reporting on clouds and stuff) has the same name as my sister. Jude.

2. The leaves that have all been shaken from the trees are very pretty.

3. I’m working in a coffee shop today with my fellow Creative Director. Team planning, business planning, etc etc. it’s easier to do this stuff than come up with amazing creative ideas when your brain is determined to be sad and focused on your ex. Coffee is delicious.

There we go. Just some ramblings. Just because.

Jude’s on the way…

Somewhere over the Atlantic

15 Oct

I’m writing this from somewhere over the Atlantic. Which is kind of fitting, really, since that’s where my relationship fell apart. While he was in New York deciding that he had never been in love with me, I was in London falling even more deeply in love with him. And so, somewhere over the Atlantic, it broke.

I hardly slept last night (despite having some great new bed sheets with dogs on them). There’s something about visiting the US that makes me miss him even more.

It’s silly, because at home in London we live about a mile and a half apart. Yes, I think about him constantly. But why should it hit me even harder when I’m travelling 4,000 odd miles to a different country?

I’m thinking about last January when he had to go to New York for three days on business. I remember how happy we both were when he got home. How much he said he had missed me.

I’m thinking of the morning he left for the US back in May. How we said goodbye and then I climbed back into his bed for an hour and smelled his smell on his pillow. How secure I felt.

I’m thinking about his flight home, the day of the pizza of doom. Did he already know when he got on the plane that he was going to break up with me? Did he decide when he landed in London? Or was it something that happened somewhere over the Atlantic?