So, I should very definitely be tidying away all the junk I've brought down from the familial home and washing out all the new pans/crockery/etc. that I coerced my much beloved mother into buying so that I didn't have to continue cooking lasagne in a mixing bowl, particularly seeing as the landlords are coming round early doors to give me sofas tomorrow (Huzzah!). Instead, I've decided it's blog time. My priorities are fine and dandy, thank you very much.
But I blather. This week in reverse order. I have, evidently, been back up to the Midlands this week. Back to sunny Melton Mowbray and the piles and piles of stuff lying throughout the house that were dumped there when I decamped from Nottingham. See, I wasn't sure that I would be staying in this flat past the end of this month when I 'moved', as it were; I thought it might be a temporary solution to allow me to do the work experience. Thus, I packed light (considering how much stuff I suddenly appear to own), and left most of it in Melton. So, when my car needed MOT-ing, I was summoned north (using remarkably little blood and cheap, pink chalk) to tidy up. Great. That was Saturday evening to Wednesday morning. Of course, if you know me you can guess how much I actually cleared up and how much time I spent with mum in tow being bought random household goods and getting my dry-cleaning done. I am a terrible daughter sometimes. Still, it was nice to see the family and get food cooked for me again for a few days. I'm still reeling from the fact that the car somehow passed it's MOT, with only a light-bulb needing replacing (yes, the 'rave indicator' is no more. I miss it already.); I was certain I'd have to get the train back.
But, a functioning car meant that I got to drop in on some Leicester friends on both Tuesday evening (KDF was too problematic, alas) and on the way to the M1 on Wednesday. We ate chips and played obscure, if fun, board games. What a wild life I lead! Ah, but it is pleasant.
Laura accompanied me on the drive north on Saturday, flying back from Toyko and her Big Japanese Adventure on Thursday night to Heathrow and needing somewhere to stay. Of course, she's moving in at the end of next week (Yay people! I remember people.), but currently I think she counts as guest/squatter, seeing as I'm the only rent-payer. Friday saw us slumming round Soho and Covent garden (I spend far too much time there, I have decided). Saturday lunch was held in the lovely Waterlow Park just down the road, with sandwiches at Lauderdale House. The park is really nice, I must confess. I shall have to become a writer, thus allowing sit about amongst the wildflowers looking pensive. Sounds like a good career plan?
Speaking of careers, my trips (I went there three times, in the end, to apply for various jobs as they appeared) to Soho have proved semi-successful in that I have a job interview tomorrow morning! Huzzah! I shall knock back the Sudafed and coffee before I go and be the happiest, most enthusiastic damned runner they have ever had the misfortune to meet. My personal tutor always said I was going to have to get good at faking enthusiasm (I'm not sure what profession she thought I was going for – I'm sure she wasn't aware of 'Plan B'), but why bother when there's caffeine to be had? But seriously, I shall be giving it my all. If it fails, I shall cave and go get a real job for a bit. Inspired by Tina, I'm eyeing up shops selling outdoor stuff (like Blacks or suchlike). I do like outdoor pursuits, even if I rarely do them these days (I imagine a few of you have noticed me planning a hiking trip to Scandinavia next year. It will be awesome, I have decided, especially if a few people decide to join me).
In conclusion: tomorrow should bring happiness somehow, either through the medium of sofas or employment. Maybe both (Double Happiness!). I shall keep you posted, of course. I will go wash up and hoover and make beds now. Then I shall bake a cake and evolve into DomestoRny! Shazzam!
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