For some insane reason, I woke up today, two hours earlier than necessary. I have a feeling it was because I wanted to finish my book, but it did mean I worked a ten-hour shift on about five hours sleep. Sounds fun doesn’t it?
…Okay it wasn’t that bad. The cafe was pretty chilled out, AND payday came around again. Yaaay! Also, look at what treat I bought this time. Hello beautiful:
Just looking at this picture is making me want another one. Oh my it was so good. I think I might get one tomorrow as well … Yep, thats what I’m definitely gonna do, thats my dinner sorted. Good work team.
Seconds after posting this, I remembered my frozen yogurt related story. Yes I am shamelessly editing. Sorry … not sorry.
So after I acquired this perfect pot I was walking home, and to get there I have to go down these steps that everyone on my floor has renamed the “piss steps”.
They were gifted this lovely title in freshers week and since then this has stuck, as every big night, which would be most nights as I live in a student city, some drunken person relieves themselves in the corner. Its not very pleasant, as you can imagine, and I think they must have a competition with themselves to see how far they can make their wee travel.
I have seen a few that manage to get all the way from the top to the bottom .. but that disgusting fact, which I have just shared with the rest of the world is not important; what is important, is that when I was walking down these steps, I came to the second to last one, and took my attention off my feet to spoon some yogurt into my mouth.
This meant that I misjudged the distance, nearly fell down the last step, and was forced to jump. When I landed I half shouted / half exhaled in relief my classic phrase: “Ahh, f*ck me”. “F*uck me” to a Scot, is like “OhMerGawd” to Janice from Friends, its just unavoidably inherent. But anyway, when I turned the corner of the steps and came onto my road, I spotted a guy stood outside a doorway.
He had clearly heard but not seen me, and I stared at him in a sort of challenge willing him to comment on my mishap, knowing full well that my phrase would be taken out of context. And you know what, he did say something, and in any other circumstances (i.e. where the focus is not on myself) I would have applauded him.
As I came parallel with him across the road – him staring at me, me trying to focus enough on him, as I wasn’t wearing my glasses, to stare back – he simply tipped his head and enquired “Good yogurt?”
And that my internet friends, is my traumatic story of the week. Goodnight.
Melody of the Recipe
Jack Johnson, Better Together
–Because, frozen yogurt, IT IS “always better when we’re together”
… But only when steps are not involved