My morning turned out to be lovely, giving me the chance to Skype with my parents and otherwise have a lazy lie-in kind of day, which was nice. Before catching the bus I thought I'd do the right thing and take the rubbish out. Given that my sneakers have no treads whatsoever, I went skidding down the three icy back cement steps and ended up lying on my back, contemplating the sky. I stayed there for a few minutes, making sure I hadn't broken my a$$, and fortunately I realised I had emerged quite unscathed. I dropped a couple of f-bombs for good measure, and thanked all the angels and saints that nobody had actually been outside to see me fall.
Hobbling towards the bus stop, I realised that I was running quite early for lunch so when I arrived at the station, I had plenty of time to stop for a coffee. This time I didn't spill a drop on myself, which was probably handy given that I had already succeeded in splotching dirty snow all over my butt - in the same jeans I'd soiled with Starbucks only yesterday. Honestly, my life is THAT ridiculous.
So with dirty jeans, and some time to spare, I sat away from the crowds and warmed myself with some yummy coffee, then caught the train to the lovely Putney neighbourhood.
LW and I then wandered down to Rump, a really lovely steakhouse that advertised a Christmas menu but didn't actually offer it when we were there. That wasn't really a big deal as it turned out, because we were quite content with a cocktail each, a traditional Sunday roast to share, and then a bottle of red wine between us. Oh and I had the creme brulee, which ended up having some sort of Christmas pudding base to it - a bit of a surprise, but not an altogether unpleasant one.
I've returned home tonight with plans to make a roast chicken dinner for my room mates - but none of them are home. I'm not sure if they're likely to wander in any time soon, so I might have to rain check till tomorrow night. We'll just have to see...