this week i’ll…


I’ll dream in columns and construction law this week. I’ll walk through European markets full of goulash and gingerbread men. I’ll spend five hours at Starbucks drinking green tea and envying sausage and bean sandwiches, and six hours at the gym.

I’ll run for the train, get all sweaty and not stop to buy a ticket. My feet will hurt but I wont care because my shoes will be fabulous. I’ll sew buttons onto my favourite winter coat and then leave it at home because it makes me look fat. I’ll clean from beneath my bed and throw away stuff I want to keep. I’ll read Vogue, Marie Claire and Glamour. The Metro News every morning. I’ll buy the Guardian and get annoyed.

This week I’ll pack bags full of me for a jet plane and America. I’ll sit at my laptop and try to write. I’ll ask again for that brush I want and watch the man in the pub window at 10am. The lady in the church will forget to turn her mobile off and I’ll feel bad for her. I’ll stare at streets full of Christmas decorations and listen to professionals and their word bingo lingo.

I’ll freeze to death in the office and wish I had brought the pashmina that doesn’t match anything but keeps me warm. I’ll kiss a man with a beard. I’ll forget to pray and then remember. I’ll wish I looked like Eliza Dushku, because she’s hot. I’ll burn candles that smell of cookies and cook apples and oatmeal. The guy next door will show off his new Ferrari and I’ll think its ugly – and mean it.

This week I’ll walk around London and collect a passenger from Gatwick. I wont forget the shower curtains or the dry cleaning or the dinner gifts. The swedes will go bad because I never eat them. I’ll exchange that one thing because its scratched. I’ll worry over my eyebrows and think about doing my taxes.

Next week I’ll worry over something else.

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