Some Like it Hot

For one reason or another, it seems that London is awash in good looking men at the moment. It started on the plane back from Australia, where it seemed that the cabin was filled with stunning, well built blond men (it turned out that there was an army sports team heading off on a trip). Even the cabin crew seemed to be providing eye candy, and more unusual, seemed to be predominantly straight, if the looks they gave a few of my fellow passengers is anything to go by. Walking around town on the weekend, they were out in force, and the tube to and from work has had me so distracted that I've barely read any of my book. Hell, even an interior design function last night provided a selection of ruggedly handsome, exceedingly well dressed men in some kind of procession past where I was stationed with my former colleagues.

So what is it that's bringing all these stunners into my path? Is it that they're always there and I don't notice them? Or perhaps I'm in such a good mood after my holiday (even the directors at work commented on how relaxed I was looking during my performance review, no less) that I'm seeing them in a Shallow-Hal type light, seeing their inner goodness. Or perhaps - and this is the angle I prefer, I think - they're being thrown into my path as a sign of something good to come. Who knows, one day one of these distractions might be in a similar frame of mind and might notice me, too. Am I too optimistic, thinking that somewhere out there, the fates are weaving a nice little reward for being such a patient, good, kind person, the type of friend who takes their flatmate's dress to the dry cleaners?

Yeah, it seems that 2 weeks off work has been just the tonic for my temper. It hasn't interfered with my sarcasm, though, you'll notice.