"Never mind," I told myself. "Being on your own won't seem so heartbreaking if there's a bit of sun to brighten your mood."
With that flawed logic still ringing in my ears I got up to leave from work. It had been beautiful weather all day, until the minute my hand touched the door. All of a sudden the glass roof that adorns my office space became a lot noisier. People outside started running as if being pursued by some horrid creature from the deep. My foot stepped out onto the concrete steps, and immediately I knew. I knew I wasn't going to have the sunshine to brighten my mood anymore. Now I would be alone and wet, and those are two of the worst things to be. By the time I arrived at my shiny new flat I looked more like my beloved goldfish Bruce, who sadly has passed away since my last post, than a copywriter who up until half an hour earlier had looked stylish and sleek, if I do say so myself.
Today the same thing happened. I had just eaten my lunch (a lovely prawn sandwich that attracted a lot of interested pigeons, more so than usual) and had purchased some absolutely must have new shirts from a well known high street store. I was casually making my way back to work, not wanting to cut short the hours break I was obliged to. Then the inevitable happened. Drip by hallowing drip the water poured. It was if nature was telling me,
"No Ash. You will have an hour and be happy with it. Walk faster. Copy must be written."
Little did nature know that so far today this blog post is the most my hands have had to work, and in reality I had little to rush back for other than occasional phone answering and maybe a trip to the kitchen for tea. Still, nature had its way, and I arrived promptly ten minutes earlier than I needed to. As I reluctantly made my way past my co-workers to attempt to dry myself off I could see their faces perk right up. Typically the rain stopped almost as soon as I got inside, so alas their smug smiles will remain on their faces for the foreseeable future.
It's a pity my break was cut so abruptly short. I was quite enjoying myself in town. I had come across a book called, "Seal Team Six." Somewhat naively I had hoped this book would be about a team of six seals who, judging by the front cover, would be sent off to war to battle for America and the good of the western world. Despite there being no images of actual seals on the front cover, I still had high expectations as I opened to the first page.
Devastated, I was, upon realisation that this was actually a book about men with guns who at no time encountered any seals or other sea life, for that matter.
I, on the other hand, encountered quite a bit of water.
Irony, that.