Sheep Photo boy texted me!
He was still planning to go to Cuenca on Friday at 8pm, and did we still want to go? I did, obviously, wouldn't you? Of course you would! Though when a friend repeated back to me what I'd said- evening trip to beautiful countryside, nice meal with new friends, interesting photo session of people amongst sheep- she made it sound like a stranger(danger) was planning on taking us out into the middle of nowhere, murdering us and chopping us up with only sheep for witnesses. I think I've gotten more naive with age, but why isn't it ok to just believe what people tell you?! Anyway I had to work Saturday morning, as usual, so didn't ever find out. He offered to show me the photos over a beer this week, but I'm pretty sure his appeal was just the novelty sheep photo stuff.
I stayed in on Friday night, which makes 2 in a row! I am a convert to going to bed at a Reasonable Time on a Friday, and working headache-free on a Saturday morning. The thing is, both times I've done this, I've gone for a drink with my friend who also teaches there after we finish. The barmen love her there, and so didn't let us go after just one beer each. So I've ended up, two weeks in a row, tipsy at 1pm. Yesterday we then proceeded to windowshop, giggling, all across Madrid, eating sushi and hotdogs, all the while with a kitchen knife in my bag, sticking out of a large potato.
(It was potato-print day in the wee art class and I had a spare.)
The potato-knife ensemble is now sitting on my bedside table, where it has been since I eventually got home 13 hours after I left for work that morning, and hurriedly emptied my bag to get ready to go out again, to dodgy Chamartin.
I will write about that later, I'm going to inspect the potato, and possibly go stick it in the oven.
ps. I know I sound like an alcoholic, but I'm not really. It's just during the week all I do is work, so there's no much to write about, and basically, weekends in Madrid are about having a wee drink and doing whatever you like. So I do.