As I hope you're aware (if not then please browse after reading this post), my last post centred heavily around the British themes of tea, cake, and slightly dodgy (we like to think it's fabulous) humour. But as I'm a patriotic sort, let's expand on this. What else is fundamentally British, I hear you ask? Well, I answer: bad weather.
It seems that the sky has been just chilling (in a cool Brian-from-the-Money-Supermarket-adverts way rather than a cold Elsa Sven Christoff Olaf way) recently, and has subsequently bottled up all of its anger and fury and all other related weather imagery. However, all of this bottled-up-whatnot needs to be let out eventually; so today Mr Blue Sky turned into Mr Not So Blue Sky, and decided to let out seemingly one months' worth of rain in one day. *much cheering and general joyfulness*
You may say, why am I complaining when I'm British, and so haven't I got used to it by now? Well, the issue is (and I'm sure many would agree with me): I got rather more used to it being dry in recent months; so torrential rain was a bit of a shock to the system.
I have a dear friend (hiya hello hi) who always walks with me to get lunch every Monday: it's our regular Pret Monday Excursion to battle the Monday Moans.
But, but but: as I'm sure you can imagine, that journey was a little bit more difficult today... Let me give you a few reasons:
1. As soon as we stepped out from the cosy, comforting warmth of college life, we entered into the blustery gale-force winds of a cold October day only to realise pretty soon that my friend's umbrella was... Well, faulty. Even though mine could be considered a sturdy brolly (umbrella, for all those unaccustomed to random English-isms), it was still no match for the sky's tears (how poetic) and so we both suffered with the umbrella-turning-inside-out situation as well as being blown and subsequently dragged halfway across the town.
2. This next one wasn't actually too bad (just trying to tell the story chronologically hehe), well - 'twas indeed wondrous - when we got to Pret, aforementioned dear friend suggested us both buying warm toasties, and golly, were they amazing. *I had mozzarella, tomato and pesto for any interested!
3. Walking back up to school was interesting: it mainly mirrored the walk down - thereby featuring many intense confabulations (great word, please do look up) regarding the exciting nature of how this blog can be translated into Latin (I know right, so exhilarating!!) For the most part, we were blissfully unaware of how there was a guy behind us, sniggering under his breath the whole way (blame his overhearing us on the wind - it was so strong you had to literally shout to have a decent conversation).
4. Time to shout more profanities at the sky such as "I hate you England" (statement from said dear friend) and "oh to have a faulty umbrella" (yours truly).
5. Thinking we were safe, we kind of jogged (I know, what is this) the last few metres to the sixth form common room. 5, 4, 3, 2 - PLONK. My paper Pret bag was so wet it had exploded; straw, napkins, fork (pls don't ask why I felt the need to have a fork for a toastie, I don't know either), drink, crisps, beloved toastie, and random paper fragments, all littered the ground. In our panic to pick it all up, my friend managed to drop her wallet, which caused another panic a few minutes later; just after her own bag had done exactly the same thing.
6. We walked into the common room breathless, drenched, windswept, freezing, and, most importantly, hungry. Needless to say, the luckily-still-warm toasties were much enjoyed!
So, there you have it. The dramatically told (naturally) story of my lunchtime. Hope it was thoroughly enjoyable for you (though nothing could be as enjoyable as a Pret toastie - please try if you haven't already experienced the wonders).
Until next time,
The (very exasperated and) happy blogger
Ps: happy October! Hope it's a great one for you
