So it's 1.19am. I'm sitting in bed, a little bit drunk with a bowl of supernoodles. My housemates are still out enjoying the night and I'm in bed. What is wrong with me? I used to love going out and I'd roll in as my parents were leaving for work. Now, it gets past midnight and I'm looking at the clock wondering when I can call the taxi.
I've just had the weirdest taxi driver. He started off all shouty and unfriendly and ended up looking like Santa Claus and telling me to enjoy life because it's too short. I don't know if it was juts my alcohol induced paranoia or what, but I really thought he was going to kidnap me. I even text my friends with his details in case they never heard from me again. But I got home, alive and well. I putt my uggs on and went in search of chips. The fish and chip shop that claims it is open until 4am definitely isn't. Very disapointed noodle eating is happening right now.
In other news, my friend is going interrailing this summer and is planning a stop in Barcelona to see me. I'm hoping to get the weekend off and go to the south of France with her, but that all depends on money. Which I don't have. Tonight has cost me about £15 and all I did was have a few vodkas before I left my house, a lime and soda in the bar and 2 taxis. How rubbish is that! I didn't even want to go out in the first place but it was my housemates "pretend" birthday. We're all back home by the time it's her real bday so we brought it forward by a month or 2.
I am so boring. Why was bed more appealing then a club? Maybe because I was up at 8am, or maybe just because I'm getting old.
Kisses
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