Sometimes you miss the strangest things...

I'm boooooooooored.

I've been up for two and a half hours. I don't want to play Sims right now. I want to go out and do something. I find I'm jonesing for the City. Enfield's ... well, I'm sure it's not a bad place to live, but because of how most of my life pans out, it seems to be little more than a flat and a convenience store. I want second-hand CD shops, goddamnit! And holes in the wall selling dubious food at even more dubious prices! And stores selling pornography -- I don't want the pornography; just the stores selling it; it's a thing. I want to be filled with impotent rage at the wads of tourist-meat blocking every available footpath. I want public transport.

I'm really insane, aren't I?

Bah, screw this. I'm going out. I'm sure my beloved will have enough to do when he finally crawls out of bed, what with video conferencing with his dad and all...

The Heat is On

Okay, as depressing a concept as this is, there's no way to avoid it. It is now officially too fucking hot to wear my leather jacket. Going out on a completely still day at the end of April which feels more like Mississippi than England wearing leather is a very good way to get baked. I may be the approximate shape of a potato through the body, but that's where the similarity ends.

Now the problem is pockets. See, the great thing about my leather jacket (apart from the fact that it's leather, it's black and it didn't cost very much) is that it's got lots of pockets. Inside left breast pocket is perfect for my cellphone, bottom left pocket for my keys, bottom right pocket for my smokes, upper right pocket for my lighter... You know the drill. And it doesn't usually get hot enough here for me to be without my jacket. But now it is, and I have to find space in my handbag for all my pocket-shit. I have enough handbag shit; my handbag is home to wallet (huge), chequebook, passport, Discman, Travelcard, floppy discs (don't ask), pen, brochure from the Tate Modern, receipts and three different flavours of lip gloss, none of which I actually wear.

I think my beloved likes the fact that it's getting hot, though, because it means I'm wearing less clothing. I came home from the shops on Friday with a white halter top. Came in wearing it under my leather jacket and with my (now unfortunately destroyed, unless I can find some decent patching material and remember how to sew) blue jeans. There was much appreciative ... well, appreciation in general. I need more halter tops. I never thought I'd wear the things -- surely said things require ... well, a better figure than I've got. But then again, as I said when I was tipsy on Screwdrivers and being forced into baby-Ts by a younger female friend -- "Aw hell. I have tits."

If it cools down any tonight, I may do some ironing. I have T-shirts to make. I've got enough transfer paper for four, and more T-shirts than are feasible. One's specifically a Small, for leopard_lady; one's specifically rather large, for either nightskywarlock or 50ftqueenie. But only if it cools down; I'm not slaving over an iron in the current climate.