Wednesday, January 18, 2006

I feel tired today

My blogging origins were brought back to me last night when Mike, Michelle, Ben and I met up for early-doors at the Golden Dragon. Although I’d met Mike before I knew of Troubled Diva, the rest of us met for the first time (*) when our stint as Troubled Diva guest-bloggers was coming to an end. At the time, I was the only guest-blogger who’d never blogged before.

Since then, Mike, Michelle and I have become the ‘Usual Suspects’ but Ben moved to Birmingham so we don’t get to see him very often.

It was good to catch up.

We went our separate ways just after 9.30 and I would’ve popped into the Lord Roberts had JP been there as he’d been when he texted me about half an hour earlier. Although it would’ve been good seeing him, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that he was gone as the night would've degenerated into a piss-up of the sort that bodes badly for work the next day. When I last saw him, a happy wave from him as I walked to the shop at 4pm on Sunday afternoon turned into a beer-soaked evening that ended at 10pm.

He’s such a terrible influence!

Before returning to the flat, I went to the garage to get some milk and fags and bumped into J, the man who prompted my new year’s resolution. He seemed rather keen to come home with me and I confess to having been tempted but resisted and returned alone. I had too many chores to do and, for once, decided to do them rather than listen to my loins.

By 11.30, I was dozing lightly on the couch having just finished watching a great program on the music of New Orleans that was interspersed with current footage of the aftermath of Katrina. I seemed to be well on my way, for a change, to being properly asleep by midnight.

The doorbell rang.

I ignored it. It rang again. Again I ignored it. Fortunately, it wasn’t loud or insistent enough to really wake me up so I drifted off again. It could have been anyone but I thought that it may have been J who I’d bumped into earlier. Or even A although it was a bit late for him to be ringing. I fell asleep.

Loud insistent doorbell ringing!

I woke instantly, my nerves jangling. The room flickered with the ghostly light from the television. Had I overslept and it was my lift ringing? No, not him, it was only 2.30! Fuck, who could it be now? I’d have ignored it had it not been so insistent. At that time of the night it seemed loud enough to wake up my neighbours.

‘Who’s there?’ I asked over the intercom.

‘It’s D,’ slurred the voice. ‘Can I come up?’

‘No, it’s far too late. I have to be up in three hour’s time.’

‘I’ll just sleep then leave when you go,’ he said.

There was no way that he’d just settle down to sleep had I invited him up. And, anyway, had he come up, I know what we’d have got up to and I’d have felt terrible in the morning. In fact, I’d probably have been tempted to not go into work at all.

‘I’m half asleep and going back to bed. Good night.’

I put down the intercom phone without listening to his slurred reply. Once I was back on the couch, I was vaguely guilty about having sent him away but the feeling didn’t last long and I was soon sleeping again.

I feel tired today.

(*) We met up at the now sadly defunct George's which is now part of Revolution. If I look out of my flat window, I can look down through the skylight into where we used to meet up around the bar at George's.

7 Comments:

Blogger JP said...

You really ought to be able to switch off that doorbell; any pissed up lunatic can ding your dong on their way out of the pub.

Or are you frightened of missing something?

2:01 pm  
Blogger Nixon said...

I feel horribly left out! :-P

And does anywhere in Nottingham approach George's yet in terms of fabulousness?

2:39 pm  
Blogger Ben said...

Jeremy: We were just talking about that last night. The simple answer is no. I think I'd be right in saying that Reluctant Nomad, Mike and Michelle are yet to find a meeting place / watering hole that recommends itself unreservedly. There are plenty of good pubs in Nottingham, sure, but George's had a very special decor, clientele and ambiance that is unlikely to be found anywhere else, unfortunately. Can't believe it's become just an extension of Revolution. The bastards.

3:59 pm  
Blogger andrea said...

I've never met any other bloggers -- don't know any in this town. Must be fun. I could seek them out I guess but this already takes too much of my time.

6:06 pm  
Blogger Reluctant Nomad said...

jp: sometimes it gets stuck then I leave the handset off to stop the noise. there may be a simpler way but haven't discovered it yet.

jeremy: is that jez, one of the other guest-bloggers from that time?

ben: hope you didn't have to run to fast to get your train last night. it sure is a tragedy that George's got swallowed up by Revolution.

andrea: if I hadn't met Mike, I'd probably never have started blogging. That stint of guest-blogging was great for meeting some really good friends.

6:22 pm  
Blogger Nixon said...

@Nomad: Yes. I've rebranded. I was only winding you up though, and I'm no longer in Nottingham. I'm loving your blog by the way. x

6:29 pm  
Blogger xmichra said...

probably a good thing you slept instead. sometimes a person jsut needs to sleep.. especially if you knew you had an early start the next day.

10:51 pm  

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