I got to the end of work today, scratching my head about a subversion failure. None of my commits were making their way into the repository and the whole thing was winding me up, making me feel unnecessarily tight in the chest. I hate that feeling, so I decided there and then that there was no way I was going home to an empty house to worry about a whole bunch of other stuff.
That's how I've ended up in the pub, listening to the conversations of people on their second date. People are so interesting. This guy seems overly keen to show off, but I'm not sure he really needs to. He's already painted himself as a sort of cat-loving, climbing enthusiast. She seems impressed but her laugh is a bit of a giveaway.
Speaking of climbing enthusiasts, my colleague Alex told me today that he'd effectively saved a man's life on the top of a Cumbrian fell. They were climbing last weekend when Alex's friend decided he'd get on better on his backside. After a while, he couldn't stand up and just collapsed. Alex quickly worked out that he had hypothermia and did his best to keep him warm while he searched for signal to phone mountain rescue. Apparently, his body temperature had fallen by eleven degrees.
"Are you a Nando's girl?" said the guy just now, tucking in to some sweet potato fries.
"Um... No, not really," said she. It turns out that Nando's isn't quite spicy enough for her. I think she might be pulling his leg and he hasn't quite realised. They're now talking about curries - he likes a sag aloo and she likes a vindaloo with extra chilis. He seems mystified, she's smiling as though she's amused by something she's just thought of. I like this girl.
Anyway, I shouldn't be eavesdropping.
So my friend Alex saved a man's life on a mountain! How cool is that? I almost suggested I should nominate him for Hero of the Month, but I didn't think he'd like that very much. Had he not had signal, he would probably have had to run down the mountain and then race back up it with the mountain rescue guys. It could have taken three hours. His friend would not have survived.
I'm not sure I'm particularly relaxed on my rest night. I've got to find ways to chill out, without being reminded how the early stages of dating work. These two are really only trying to figure each other out - that's OK isn't it? They're discussing their weirdest band t-shirts now - him: McFly, her: Britney. What does it matter? Both of them will be writing the story of the evening into their subconscious, figuring out what they think of the other so that they can get home and remember it all, tell their friends about it and decide whether or not there will be a third.
Rest nights highlight the great perplexity for me. I run the risk of either being bored or actually doing something to make it no longer a rest night. Maybe next time I should just lie down in a darkened room.
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