my weekend began at 5pm on friday night when i finished work. coming out of the office i remember it being dark and kind of icy, the sort of cold that hits you soon as you walk out of the building, and you kick yourself for wearing those silly ballet pumps and that low cut top which seemed a good idea at the time- the time being when you were stood next to the heater all cosy in your PJ's at 7am. and well, just to clarify about the top, it wasn't THAT low cut, just low cut enough so the boy you like notices that you actually have breasts, but without looking overly slutty! 

friday night was a bit of a rush, by the time i get in after the nightly queuing in traffic an hour has already pased. i resent the fact that i spend 2 hours a day in traffic every day, that's 10 a week, 40 a month. i can think of much more useful things to do with my time, namely masturbation, or failing that book research. but it can be nice sometimes, throwing a CD in and drifting off somewhere else. i usually follow the mood of the CD, and a lot of the time it brings me back to dave, whenever i hear about love he's always the one i think of. its dangerous where the thoughts can lead from their, and sometimes i sink into the familiarity of my downward spiral and arrive home with my face wet from tears, hands shaking from holding the wheel so tight, like i was holding on to him or something. usually if i get home like that i go straight to my room and lie in the darkness on my back, head sunk into a pillow, sobbing for a while. i say a while, because laying on my back really hurts my boobs after a bit. almost like my own body is rebelling against my misery...or that i just have big tits.. lol