Earlier in the year, in a frenzy of trouser buying I ordered a lovely pair of dark green corduroy trousers. I slightly underestimated the fit so they weren't terribly comfortable while I could fit in them it wasn't an awfully nice experience. Anyway, I was sad that they weren't for me but they were such a pleasant colour I couldn't get rid of them. That would have been cruel.
Anyway, while rooting through the trouser section of my wardrobe I came across them again. They fit splendidly now. All the weeks of cycling have really paid off now that I can wear these trousers. They are writers trousers, trouser for a chap with something to say to the world.
Speaking of writing I got a piece commissioned, it's going to need a bit of work but it is in. Huzzah.
In other news the situation with A is better, still a bit strange but better. I want to stay 'pleasant' with her until she goes on holiday, as I would hate to arrive with the additional baggage of dread. I've recently found out that my jolly good chum H is going to be on the Island at the same time, only a village away so if it all goes terribly wrong I can go and join him; which is an excellent spot of luck. Pleasant should be easy, she is only in the office for three more days and I'm going to be in meetings for most of tomorrow.
A kissed me twice today without prompting (this was due to my cooking mostly, my spiced chestnut rolls are to be feared for their addictive tastiness.) but to be honest I'm more excited about the fit of my trousers, they are so devilishly green.
Of course, after the holiday maybe things will change with the girl, I'm not sure yet. Girls are so very troublesome.