How many brunettes does it take to fix a light globe?

...Just one dumb one. After spending the past week or so telling friends to savour the moments with me, as I was convinced I would explode on a train during the comm games, I almost exploded in my bedroom last night. The globe on my bedside table ended it's life as I turned it on to go to bed....so I went through the globes in my cabinet (which were the teardrop shape and better suited to sconces and chandeliers) but thought I would see if it fit in anyway. Well it didn't even have the bit to screw in, and I also forgot to turn the light off. So on contact, the globe blew up, sparked and popped and my fingers buzzed and felt hot. I pondered my sheer stupidity for a while and marvelled at how powerful electricity is...but excused myself for being tired and having a bit of mind numbing hay fever. Then I got depressed. After spending most of the weekend in my own company and thinking too much, I thought about what would happen if I had of lay in my pink nightie on my bedroom floor, clutching the light globe and remained undiscovered until my housemate returned from Sydney on Wednesday to find my charred, smoking remains. If I had a cat, I'm sure it would have eaten my eye ball, like in that urban myth. Then I had a nightmare that my brother suicided. Andrew, I know London is bleak....but don't top yourself ok! So all in all...the long weekend was rather average and punctuated by the announcement that one of my best friends is probably moving to Sydney. Sure I was contemplating going to Dublin later in the year (which now may change to somewhere warmer pending finances or lack thereof), and it's ok when I contemplate going somewhere...but not anyone else that could potentially strip me of comfort and friendship frivolities. I've thought a lot about peoples paths and sacrifices and why other friends return to things that are problematic, time and time again. As I stared death in the face last night....maybe it boils down to love. We do things out of love not sensibility. I remember I almost moved to Sydney for my ex, and I would have done it for him and not for me. I also should have recognised that that particular relationship should have ended a lot earlier (which other people had the perception of seeing), but I had too much love invested in it which does blur clarity. I'm thankful in many ways for being single and rediscovering my own path, self-reliance and strength as well as availing myself to the opportunity of meeting someone more worthwhile (other than attached englishman who buy expensive french champagne). But then the words of a friend rang in my head as he was contemplating becoming single again "I would really miss waking up next to someone on a Sunday morning". And that was reinforced to me as I spent the greater parter of the weekend in an empty house. I do miss that. I think I have lost faith in love which is sad, but I am sure one day it will be restored and melt my darkened heart. I'm pre-menstrual and puffy and everything feels black... but life is short so I guess live it to the fullest and pursue happiness in whichever from it presents itself, is the motto of today. I'm going to inhale a texta. That makes me happy.