after the weekend's adventures, this morning was a bumpy landing. back to earth. through the bus' filthy windows, the journey to work, all greys and washed out browns, seemed to shoot by. why is it, the same route, coming home in the opposite direction, seems to drag and take forever?
plus - i'm constantly surprised by the nuts and bolts of this addiction i thought i'd buried. the speed at which all the movements return to me. the way i plan now, getting a cigarette out when i know i'll have a chance to smoke.
as well as suddenly being on first name terms with different people, both at work and at play.
conversations are different too. easier to strike up outside of wherever you're meant to be. even if it is only with colleagues.
the other thing about smoking is the breaks i'm allowed to take. as a non-smoker, if i was to get up from my desk and go and stand outside for ten minutes, i'd be carpetted.
however, all i have to do now is moan a little about how hard it is to stay off, how much the little buggers cost these days and so on... and bob's your uncle. pitying looks and regular breaks.
but the one things that kept me going was/were the flurry of text messages She hit me with all day. one of those days where the communication was thick and fast - in heavy globs.
we're covering a lot of ground, She and i. common ground, a lot of it, which amazes me regularly.
some of it's kinks - in which we seem to reciprocate each other. a lot of it's other stuff, teevee and films we both like. we agree on a lot of comedy, from "the young ones" to "green wing". and, best of all, She loathes the dread mr bean as much as i do.
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