Meh.

Oh sweet Thursday, only one more day til the weekend. Today was another case of same shit, different outfit. I got up, went to work, ate lunch, smoked two cigarettes, worked some more and then came home. My only variation on this alarmingly repetitive pattern was a brief outing to VH to hand in my expenses, a magazine and a pizza. On re-reading that sentence, I'd like to point out that all three are separate and unique in their contribution to my happiness today.

Usually, my trips to VH are a respite from the cupboard but today in the not-really-there rain, I would've given anything to stay in the warm coziness with a flapjack and a cup of tea. Working in town means that often on my journeys I spot a few famous faces going about their business. On Tuesday, I saw Bob and Pixie Geldof walking along with another man, Pixie in that black and white houndstooth coat that shes been wearing in all the papers (speaking of which - why the hell do papers use their ink on a teenager who has yet to achieve ANYTHING, let alone their GCSEs?). The previous week, I saw a Gallagher brother - the slightly less surly one - and the other day a few paparazzi were lingering outside Prada and Max Mara, waiting to get a shot of whoever was inside. This is what my life has come down to, this is what I now find exciting.

Aside from my walk in the rain, the other exciting piece of news was getting an early release issue of the magazine with some of the shots I styled in it, full credit and all. When I find some energy, I'll scan and post them. This leads me onto my final exciting installment;

I ate pizza for dinner. You may not find that exciting but I rarely eat pizza these days - when your boyfriend who loves pizza can no longer eat wheat and tomato combined so beautifully in a spherical gastronomical delight, neither can you without feeling guilty. But since he's out, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.