Letters to Spring 8

Letters to Spring 8

Dear Spring,

Damn you were hot today. Like the kind of oppressive heat that really caught me off guard. I expected to be just fine in a light bomber jacket that I inherited from my brother and I was until I reached the oppressive heat of Oxford Street where all the body heat and buildings that reflect the harsh yellow sunlight and the actual warmth coming from the sun made everything rather uncomfortable and when I went to satiate an itch on my back I realised that it was slick with sweat and that I should maybe lose the jacket and walk around in just my crop top…in April (and on that note, turns out that some memo was sent out to women everywhere that the only appropriate attire for the day will be crop tops and high waisted jeans with some kind of trainer…I saw a lot of them, myself included…)

Unlike the last couple of days where it has been warm enough to walk around without a jacket as long as you stay in the sun today walking in the shade was the preferable option. It felt like full on summer. And it reminded me that as things go summer and I do not get on that well. But I try to get on as well as I can with it…which isn’t actually all that hard because I am very good at just staying at home with all the windows open and the back door letting in whatever breeze it can into the house and sort of melt into the sofa. I would almost go so far as to say that it is a skill.

The promise of good weather was kind of the reason that I ventured to the hellhole that is Oxford Street at the weekend because I figured that I should at least be able to say that I wasn’t just a hermit all weekend ignoring the good weather that we so rarely get. I also needed to pick up a few things and I wanted them instantly and not have to wait for them to be delivered, because I am impatient (and also I needed a clarifying shampoo for tomorrow because that’s when I wash my hair). In the end I only ended up getting the shampoo, mainly because I forgot two of them and by that point I couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way up to Selfridges to find them…if I found them. I have also confirmed, to myself and only myself, that the universe is conspiring against me and doesn’t want me to own a pair of black denim shorts. Or if it does, they don’t want me to have them from Topshop.

The second reason that I went up there is because it pretty much houses my favourite shop in all the lands. Waterstones Piccadilly. And by the time I got there I was already well caffeinated so I just sat in the cool basement surrounded by books (all be it those about travel) and opened up my laptop and tried to make some progress on my other April project. Which I did. It’s a slow amount of progress, but it’s progress enough that I know I can into a roll with it soon. Or at least I hope I can. The past few days there have been signs that this idea is still bubbling away in my head and wants to make its way on paper somehow. And so I am moving forward with it, I might need to reassess that word count of mine, but I’ll give it until after the Easter Bank Holiday before I think about it, because that is huge chunk of time that I can dedicate to it.

The reason that I ended up staying up there for far longer than I intended is because while I was slowly typing away in the cafe downstairs at Waterstones, I was joined by R. And then promptly broke my book buying ban…in a binge kind of way. And the fact that I only left with 5 books is actually impressive, because the potential there was insane. I am for sure ignoring the fact that I currently can’t read any of them because I am otherwise disposed when it comes to books for the time being (almost at 21, which means just 30 to go…).

But then that well over an hour long meandering around Waterstones turned into a meandering down to Trafalgar Square and being mildly disturbed by the Fourth Plinth and then it turned into walking through Covent Garden and then down to Leicester Square before we rediscovered Amaretto Sours and ate some dinner. And then it turned into actually going home.

The day turned into one of those days that can’t be planned and turn out to be what you actually need. Whether you knew it or not. I needed to walk around Oxford Street listening to Beyonce (the album, I almost said not the artist, but that would be a lie because yeah it is the artist). I needed to actually make some progress with project 1 on the document that it exists in and not just on scraps of paper that I wrote in a blur while at my desk just so that I didn’t forget what I had thought. I needed to maybe go on a little bit of books buying binge after being good for so long and then have one final brownie/ice cream combo before I get back on my being properly sugar free thing again (which let’s be real will only be for the next 5 days because it’s Easter next weekend and I have yet to have Mini Eggs or Creme Eggs,  but I’m back in the gym next week so I will have earned them). I needed to spend the majority of the afternoon with R where things just fit and work. I needed to just sort of reset in some way and I already knew that I needed to do that, but I figured I could do that across the long weekend next week when I can turn off the alarm and just laze around doing very little. So it was nice for it to happen unexpectedly and on what turned out to be a lovely day.


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