That was a Bad Idea
Bad Ideas Of Our Time #22
Having a row in a restaurant while drunk with your (even drunker) boyfriend. Then storming out dramatically and flouncing home, only to realise that you've forgotten your house keys. Cue a rather shamefaced phonecall to the aforementioned drunk boyfriend, asking him to come and let you in. Pizza for dinner, humble pie for dessert. Mmmm, tasty. To make matters worse, the argument was about ballet. Ballet, I ask you.
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Bad Ideas Of Our Time #21
Monkeying around with 20six, thereby making it a horrible mess which gives this blogger a pressure headache.
Why can't people leave well enough alone? Eh? Why?
And why do we have to know HTML in order to blog now? Where have all the formatting buttons gone ("long time passing...")?
This was the biggest Bad Idea of the lot.
I think this might be it for me. Unless somebody tells me how I can make this blog look halfway decent, I'm either off to pastures new or giving up this whole blogging malarkey entirely.
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Bad Ideas Of Our Time #20
Giving up caffeine.
Especially giving up caffeine immediately after having spent Christmas at home, where the parents are in the habit of making a cup of tea or coffee roughly every 8 minutes.
Oh yeah, I know it'll seem like a great idea in a couple of days' time when I feel all spry and awake first thing in the morning, and when people comment on how bright-eyed I'm looking.
People: My, my, you're looking bright-eyed. Look how bright her eyes are.
More people: Yes, indeed, they are very bright.
YAAGs: Why, thank you. I've given up caffeine, you know.
But now, right now, I would like the person who stuffed my head with wire wool to come and remove it ASAFP. And the little imps with jackhammers can bugger off as well. Thank you.
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Bad Ideas Of Our Time #19
Paying attention to Trilby when choosing an outfit.
8am, YAAGers' bedroom.
YAAGers: Do you think it will rain today?
Trilby: Nah, look outside. It's sunny.
Later. YAAGers flip-flops into work, her toes turning an unattractive shade of blue, as rainclouds gather ominously overhead.
Trilby - great boyfriend, appalling weatherman.
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Bad Ideas Of Our Time #18
Getting out of bed this morning.
Today I have fallen down a flight of stairs, dropped my purse in the street so all my coins rolled under a car, and been trapped on the Northern Line for the best part of an hour. And I have a hangover. If anybody wants me, I'm curled up in a ball under my desk, moaning softly.
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Bad Ideas Of Our Time #17
Spending five hours yesterday playing this horribly addictive game.
Every time I close my eyes I see little exploding elephants and giraffes and pandas. Which is very distracting when you're trying to get down and dirty with your boyfriend.
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Bad Ideas Of Our Time #16
Getting on the scales this morning.
Oh.
My.
God.
Love has made me fat. Time to knock off the wine and takeaways, methinks.
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