Cloud Numbers: Weasels, chocolate and green.

"stupidly happy" by xtc plays from out of tankgirl's playlist on my pc, the late sunday afternoon sun floods through the window of Chambers, the sky is the same colour as TankGirl's new hair, well kinda. Couldn't be happier. Couldn't feel more right than it does.

Weekend has been a bit of this and that really. To First Life HQ on Friday to catch up with things and play 'pooter games, which was nice. Saturday; was meant to meet eddie for a coffee in Café Rouge, but then he snapped/tore his tendon running across a road on his way to meet us. When I found him he was sitting beside the road clutching his ankle, clearly in pain but being ignored by the throngs of pedestrians walking by. People can be such knobs. His description of a loud 'popping noise' sent queasy shivers down my skin. Emergency evac proceedures followed, including eddie allowing me drive his little yellow car (punch) for the first time. His ankle is now in a cast after a trip to Casualty.
By the time I rejoined TankGirl in Café Rouge, my bucket of capuccino had gone cold and she had been joined by her friend Richard, who I was meeting for the first time, and our friend Nick who had just ordered a bottle of champagne to go with the punnet of strawberres he'd brought. Four bottles of wine and fun later, we carried and left a broken Nick asleep on the grass outside the blues, and tankGirl and I planned our futures togther. Did I tell you we're getting married? Ah yes.
Doctor who, a power nap and a litre of fruit juice and we were sitting around a fire-bin (with legaliser on standby) at dragondrop centraal for a summer rehearsal of the night shift. Rehearsals went well.

And a perfect sunday today. Long lay-in, tea and the sunday times, sunshine, river. Good friends. Good times. Ah.

Well that's all very nice innit?

I've had a buzz in my head for the last couple of days, like I can feel a storm coming. I hope its nothing but there is an impending sense of dread/doom about something, someone (maybe), somewhere.

Is the fan on? Check. Big bag of shit ready to throw? Check.
Brace for impact...

Its either these damn temporal ear lobes of mine or...or...I dunno, my own humouring and pandering to my inner pessimist. Things are good, therefore they will soon be bad again...I don't want to believe that.

Tankgirl has gone for a powernap now, billy holiday plays from the playlist as the sun slowly lowers itself from the sky.

I'm gonna have a bifta and do some micro blogging. Paint_monkey is; sitting. paintMonkey is standing. paintMonkey is inhaling and exhaling as he walks to the sink... ;)

Today's cloud number is number nine.