Of course then I was up to all hours scribbling away, ditto in the wee dark hours this morning. I usually blame my stories for making me too quick to anger and a complete flake, but it's not the fics, it's the staggering lack of sleep, since the fic hours have to come from somewhere, and sadly the only free hours I had to spare were my sleepytime ones: twelve to four.
But I can't give up, not when Lewis and I are left breathless by Ruthless!James or Flirty!James. Oh, James.
The only thing that could make me any happier would be some vintage Jam on the radio. Oh! Down In The Tube Station At Midnight! Scuse me while I wallow. Oh, it just takes me back, old saddo that I am. But it does, and it's a great, evocative song for doing just that.
Anyway, squee! Also, no inbox bursting with terse and bitchy emails, and what a difference that makes to my day. I was practically glowing, claimed a colleague who staggered in later. Floating and ethereal, she said. Such a change not to be grinding my teeth down to nubbins before I've finished my morning cuppa. (And it gave me an opportunity to go play with Ruthless!James, whoo).
Meanwhile, the house is a mess, okay, messier, as the Peanut Gallery prepares for his New Zealand adventures. He packs like a Victorian gentleman explorer. I am so not kidding here. It's like having the Shackleton expedition in our front room. Good grief. (Okay, so Shackleton wasn't a Victorian explorer but you get the idea with the gear). I only mention antartic explorers on account the the lad having taken fright at the winter weather.
So yeah, I watched Lewis last night. I was going to go a Morse, but I decided to go directly to the source. I love how snarky James is. I love Lewis' new chewed up and spat out by life attitude, as opposed to happy-go-lucky Lewis of old. I love just how loyal they become in series one (much to Innocent's mouth gaping horror). I love the way Lewis constantly surprise Hathaway - I think that's part of the appeal. I just love the bit where Hathaway pats Lewis' hand and calls him darling and it takes Lewis .05 seconds to realise then he's all 'no way', but he might as well give up because everyone thinks they're boyfriends. I love crazy James, in fact, I love all the facets of James that we catch glimpses of. And I just love, love, love the scene at the end at the pub by the river. Could anything be more adorable?
I mean, seriously, dude, most of the 'romances' I've seen of late have been far less romantic, including a fair whack of the Austens. Young James seems quite smitten. It's so cute.
Anyway, there was that (grumpy old coppers and the shiny new buttons who love them), an there was Top Gear.
Nearly didn't make it home in time for the old TG (and I had to stand up all the way on the bus, grumble), but I did. It was laugh out loud funny. I loved Jezza dismissing teens as spending all their time lying on floors drunk and being stabbed - the man is a walking edition of the Daily Mail. It's the sheer incorrectness that makes it so very, very funny (like before we were watching that Daktari meets the Brady Bunch confection that is Wild at Heart and the hostess dealt with the whiny vegan by stabbing her steak with a fork and flipping it to the dog in one perfect move, oh yeah, wish I'd had the gonads to do that).
James raced a man crawling across mud, and lost (no surprise there) and Hammy Hamster did a demolition derby with camper vans (pity, some of them had bitchin' 70s interiors). We actually got the news segment this time, which was hilarious, which meant we missed out on the celeb in a car (we get one or the other, never both). I bet we don't get to see DT do his lap. Never mind, it was fun and I'd picked up some (slightly squished) cupcakes in the cool cupcake shop near work because, well, I was having a day and cupcakes, tea and Top Gear sounded like a good idea, and it was.
Meanwhile on the silly animal show, Stephen Tompkinson was being as action man as I've ever seen him, hanging out of a helicopter with a rifle, which was different. But pretty quickly he was back to looking miserable and hopeless again and things were thankfully back to normal.
Oh, and I managed to pick up a copy of Arena with wee Jimmy on the cover, just sitting there at my regular newsagents, which makes a change because I could never find that frigging issue with the Simm in it and I scoured two capital cities, dammit. This has also made me happy.
Ooh, look at that sky, looks like another storm. And thanks for the fic ideas, mate. Keep 'em coming. The crazier the better. It's striding purposefully towards Invisibles land anyway, and I'm disinclined to try and stop it. I am wearing my "What Would Dennis Spooner Do" t-shirt, afterall - grin.
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