I had a surprisingly action-packed day, given the mostly sedentary (excluding the extreme bike rides, runs and other busybother I fill my days with) lifestyle I lead since quitting mainstream competitive sport.
There was the emergency mascara excursion, which also happily resulted in finally finding the nail polish I've been craving since the release of OPI's "Holiday in Toyland" collection. If you've read this before, tell me, because I'm so fucked right now it feels like deja vu but I can't really tell.
Then there was the clothing dilemma - I went with red in the hope that it would end up with me in Chris' bed. It didn't, but I'm pleased to report that the afternoon in his company went rather swimmingly. Or cyclingly, as the case may be. Yeah, he dicked me on the bike ride, but we then chilled in some Devonport cafe and later at his house (wooden floors, I'm impressed). The visit lasted longer than expected - yay - and I was subsequently almost late for work (I arrived with about 10 seconds to spare - unshowered and hair everywhere). It was worth it. I would have taken being late to work if it meant getting laid, but you know. There's always tomorrow for that. He wants to go running together. What the hell? It's like dating Action Man, let me tell you.
Work was mostly uneventful - no deluge of men wanting to give me their numbers (although last night a bike mechanic who frequents the shop gave me his. Nice guy), but I didn't get away until 11:40pm and had to battle the retarded New Year's Eve drivers on the streets around the waterfront. Gah. I had Bad Religion up as loud as my speakers would go without exploding, and drove way too fast. I don't care. It's 2009 now, and I'm excited for the new year.
Happy new year, yo.