There's a first time (this term) for everything
Okay, it probably began last night when I smoked my first [certain decriminalised substance deleted] for a good while, seeing how I was bored. Incidentally, this happened just at the point at which Trading Places became ten times funnier.
Overslept, then actually got some work done before I headed up to north Leam to collect my deposit (huzzah!) from my ex-housemate. For the record, it is over four months since I vacated my Tara & Co property.
But before I left on my bike (which I hadn't ridden since June), our doorbell, which hasn't worked all term, randomly started going off every couple of minutes, despite the actual thing you press having been disconnected, and no one being at the door. Not only was it very weird hearing the bell for the first time, it was trebly weird as there was no possibility of anyone setting it off. I blamed it on the gremlins and set off.
I got the cheque (£100!) and as it was quite – though not unrefreshingly – parky outside today, I accepted Rosie's invitation into the house and accepted her offer of a cup of tea/coffee. I chose tea (which, as those of you who know me will know, except my mum, I take white with sugar). Rosie didn't have any milk so borrowed some from the fridge – but whose? She didn't know – I thought she would; this turned out to be a rather significant issue. So I sat down with my cup of tea. I was quite disconcerted as it smelled not unlike fish. However, I didn't want to be rude so took a sip. Not only did it smell like fish, it tasted of it too. I wasn't drinking this. I told Rosie, who thankfully wasn't offended. Neither of us understood, so I took a look at the bottle. The use by date? The 16th of…September. I'd just drunk 2 month old milk. Fuck! It wasn't lumpy or anything – it merely smelled of fish.
At which point I started feeling a bit [effect of smoking aforementioned decriminalised substance deleted] again. It made cycling back to south Leam in the school rush a lot of fun (mind, it's always fun). But I'm still feeling very weird. Was it the milk? Was it merely my crazy lightweight metabolism? Who knows.
What I do know is the moral of this tale: it really was about time all these things happened: smoking [certain decriminalised substance deleted], taking my fixed bike out for a spin, the doorbell to work and that milk to be drunk (then poured down the sink). I should've gone for the coffee (which I take black without sugar, Mum).