Arriving at the station, I made my way to the ticket machine to punch in my 8 digit reference number in order to collect my ticket and low and behold it asks me for the card I purchased the ticket from. The card that in this very moment I realise it sitting on the coffee table in my living room an hour away. I have 8 minutes until my train leaves. So much for being "responsible" and leaving my credit card at home. Needless to say the girl at the kiosk was useless and I made my way home, rejected, with the intention of starting again on Friday, my next available day off work.
I have made good use of my time though, I made Betty Crocker Brownies that went horribly wrong and watched American Psycho to release my impending inner Patrick Bateman. I now feel slightly unwell but all can be forgiven (I mean I can forgive myself for my Monday serial mishaps), because I have been doing more research on jobs within the vintage fashion field AND I have arranged two flat viewings within London this Friday, much to poor Kev's dismay as he will not be able to assist me.
So Monday is coming to a close now, it wasn't the day I'd imagined or hoped it would be but it hasn't been a complete waste. I have still managed to do things I would not otherwise have been able to do had I been at work today.
