By the time this blog gets published it’ll be two days since Day Fourteen happened. This delay has occurred because I am really rubbish and simply could not make myself write a blog, however loudly I shouted at myself. Fortunately, not much happened on Day Fourteen, so you can now relax.
So. On Day Fourteen I realised I had to stop and rest, urgently. My legs had stopped walking. So I stopped and rested. American hotel beds are so ginormous that you can spend hours hanging out in them before getting bored. There’s just so many areas of the bed to occupy. It’s great.
After resting hard, I did some shopping. And then I went and ate oysters + AMAZING tuna + swordfish with The Man at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station. It was delicious. We made lots of orgasmic noises and declared New York to be the foodie capital of the world. Then we rolled home and belched on our bed for a bit, discussing the possibility that New York is in fact the awesomeness capital of the world. I’m writing this at the airport and feeling really depressed about coming home.
Oh, I also did something I’ve never done before Day Fourteen. I got out my credit card and bought me a PROPER HANDBAG THAT COST LOADS OF MONEY and I didn’t feel sick afterwards, I instead felt really speshul and amazing and I did a sort of mad dance as I left the bag shop because it was the most beautiful thing I’ve EVER SEEN. My most expensive handbag prior to this cost £50. This new thing has a luxury lining. And a pen slot. And a phone slot. And heavy gold zips and the aroma of a saddlery and when I have it on my arm it’s like my life is golden and I’m suddenly a really beautiful thin successful woman with a life that even I am really jealous of, rather than a tubby old biffer with intestinal parasites and bad skin.
I woke up at 5am and couldn’t sleep for anxiety at having spent so much money but I’m slowly working through it. Rather than taking the bag back.
So that’s Day Fourteen. Good.