I have a day off tomorrow, and not a moment too soon! It was so. busy. today at work. It was a combination of it being a Saturday and us starting a new sale, but the place was packed and we were short-staffed. When things finally quieted down about half an hour before we closed, the whole collection department I was working on was completely trashed. It was like a plague of shopping locusts had descended; packs of duvet covers falling from shelves, towel piles destroyed, cushions all over the floor. I sped around and fixed the sections I had time to, but the girl on the overnight shift is going to have her work cut out for her.
The busyness meant that by the time we closed I was aching, tired, and completely not in the mood for the imbalance in my cash count that took 20 minutes to sort out, making me miss my train. I tried to ring home for the 4th time to wish my grandad a happy birthday but my mum was STILL not picking up her phone so I didn't get to speak to him. The weather has taken a cooler turn the last few days, so I was huddled into my trench-coat on my walk to the train station, knowing that I was going to be sitting there for another 45 minutes, generally hating the world.
There's a cafe in the station and all I wanted to do was go in, order a hot chocolate and eat an enormous iced apricot danish. It was all I wanted to do. Fuck the world and eat a danish.
I didn't in the end, I forced myself over the bridge to my platform and sat there in the cold with my kindle. I do this weird thing sometimes, when I'm trying to diet (or doing well on a diet), where I 'test' myself. Where I go into the supermarket and stand in the confectionery aisle for a while, or go into a fast food place to order a salad, just to... prove I can, I guess. I put myself in temptations way just so I can say no. Except then, sometimes I can't. So, I very briefly considered going in to the cafe and ordering a cup of tea, before telling myself that I was being an idiot, and realising that sometimes the better part of valour is spending an hour in a bitchy huff rather than stuffing my face. I don't know how much of this was brought on by the fact that the it was closing in 10 minutes, so I'd have had to sit in the cold anyway, stewing over the knowledge that I'd eaten at minimum of half a day's worth of calories. When I finally got home I defrosted one of my bean chilli portions and had that for tea instead. When it didn't quite satisfy, I had a bowl of bran flakes (it was one of those nights when I didn't want to feel 'not hungry', I wanted to feel 'full'). It pushed my calories something like 12 over the upper limit of my range, but given the alternative I passed by, I'm not thinking of it as a fail. Dad's hot cross buns were smelling pretty damn good at that point though, and I could see the potential for things to go downhill real fast, so I got out of the kitchen and went upstairs.
I'm warm in bed now, with some stand up comedy on TV in the background, and I can sleep-in in the morning because I have no plans. All of which automatically gives tomorrow a much better chance of being awesome.