So it didn't really matter that Harry wasn't there in the end. All it meant was that it was a pretty uneventful night in which I drank far more than I needed and... well, nothing happened.
My friends have always expressed concern about my lack of fear in walking the streets at night, but I've been doing it for years. Sure, I've had to run off from a few shady characters, I've been jumped on by a licenced London Black Cab driver, I've searched desperately for a friendly taxi on dark streets I didn't recognise, but it says a lot about me really - and as I said in my first post: 'I'm not afraid of any conventional fears.'
We ended up in club called Fabric up in North London. It was gone 4am and I was done for the night. I vanished before anyone could start lecturing me. Naturally I hadn't eaten all day to ensure that my body was empty and at its thinnest, so my first stop was to buy food.
Alcohol impairs judgement : half a pizza, half a subway sandwich, a slice of cake, a packet of crisps and a tube of chocolate HobNob Biscuits which I mechanically fed into my mouth as I began my walk to find a bus to take me home. I didn't actually have a clue where I was, so like a tourist, I followed the street signs to Trafalgar Square where I knew I could get a night bus near to where I lived. It was now just after 5am - the night bus for my destination had stopped running already. I decided to get on the next night bus that came which took me to a destination that I recognised as being 'on the way' to where I lived and was woken up in the daylight when the bus terminated. I got off. Now I really had no idea in hell where I was. I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. "I just want to go home." I'd pay £100 for a taxi right now. "I just want to go home."
There was a bus station nearby and I recognised one of the buses which would take me to the next town to where I lived, so I took it in relief and made the final 15 minute walk to my front door, arriving finally at 7am.
All in one piece and at minimal price.
I felt the same emotions that I did when I woke up next to Harry three weeks ago - "I'm too old for this." This is not the life I want anymore. I would much rather have spent the weekend in the gym, reading books, cleansing my body and mind... I don't find this fun anymore - I'm not sure I ever really did.
I was pumped about seeing Harry - that's where the fun is for me - in the game, in the attraction, in the stakes and risk. But getting drunk and ruining my body? - it just feels like a completely wasted weekend. If I spend hours making myself look my best then I want to be in an environment where it can be appreciated.
Anyway, fact is, in a month I will not have time for much of a social life. It's official, I am going back to Law School (or re-starting Law School since I left without taking any exams). I'll be working full-time 7am-6pm and studying a full-time course (in the evenings). A controversial decision I know.
Anonymous commented a few posts back that I should do an MBA instead but for one thing, I would never get onto an MBA course at a decent university and for another, I'm not really sure that it's the path I want to take. One author of a Wall Street Novel reaffirmed Anonymous's opinion: "As junior bankers, whenever we were feeling low, we'd watch the junior lawyers and start feeling better. They worked just as many hours as we did, they made a lot less money, and their work was even more boring than ours." Even Harry told me, if I wanted to work for a City Law Firm, I'd work longer hours than him. He saw the horror in my face when he told me he typically works from 8am to 8pm. The only thought in my head was: but when do you have time to go to the gym?! Even though I wake up at 5:30am, I still go to the gym almost every day after I finish work at 6pm, and the thought of going a week without exercise is simply unthinkable to me.
But the reality is, once I start my law studies in the evening, my working day will extend to 9pm - not to mention the homework and assessments I'll be doing on my nights off. I'm not going to be able to live in the gym anymore. I find it ... honestly...I find the thought terrifying.
My life revolves around working out - I mean... that's what I do, that's my thing, that's my hobby, that's the thing I love more than anything - burning calories.
I'm afraid of not being able to exercise every day.
I'm running the London Half-Marathon in a month and although I've been working out consistently, I haven't been doing enough long runs and specific half-marathon training. This coupled with the fact that my gym membership usage is going to be significantly reduced come the end of September when I go back to Law School, means I need to be really maximising my workouts over the next four weeks. If I can just lose one stone in those four weeks - one stone - 6.5kg - then I could rest a bit easier. The last time I was studying I consistently skipped all my lectures and study lessons to go to the gym. I cannot let my obsession hold me back like that again, I have to learn to let go of the gym, I have to learn to eat without craving the need to burn it off.
It's a fucking scary thought. I'm going to have to let go of the one thing that gives me comfort and makes me feel good...
"All the women I've met from Magic Circle Law Firms are seriously hot."
"Yeah, I know, it's like a requirement."
"They're not nice though..."
I rolled my eyes and raised an eyebrow, "Why, because none of them would sleep with you?"
He pursed his lips together bitterly. "Yeah."
Well Harry, I'll be one of those women soon.
Hillary Clinton meme
9 months ago