Jan. 19th, 2011

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I have gastric flu, so I called in sick for the first time ever. On Sunday I actually worked with the gastric flu without realising what it was, and thought that I was just randomly throwing up all over with a strange sweaty temperature. Actually I thought I was hungover, and I was surprised because I hadn't been drinking the night before. After that I blamed it on my period. But now I understand.

So I had an evening in, sitting around on the internet looking at my secret stash of porn. My porn happens to be the Laura Ashley home furnishings website. I get really turned on by imaginarily shopping for curtain tie-backs and pretty milk jugs. My taste is getting worse and worse, actually. When I first moved here I was all cool and clean-lined. Now the burlesquey girly part of me is busting out all over and there are diamonds and feathers and flowers everywhere. And don't even get me started on the kitchen. In a fit of gay joy I painted the window frames candy pink, like Barbie on a sugar high. (Actually, that is a fairly apt description of the way I do most things.) There are polka dots and strawberries all over the place. I don't know what happened to me.

Well, it makes me weirdly happy, and it's not like anyone ever comes here anyway, seeing how stingy I am about inviting people over. So I might as well just keep it up. The moment I am able to walk more than a few metres without my brain and legs turning into cotton-wool, I am going to the one remaining Parisian Laura Ashley shop and hitting up the sales. Yep. And then I am going to buy new sheets.

See, when some girls are freshly out of a long relationship, they get a hair cut. I decorate. At the moment I am busy boxing up all of my ex's belongings. She keeps coming round to get them and then just leaving without taking anything. Well, it's up to her, but if she doesn't take them I will just make a sweet and generous donation to charity. I do not run a storage space here. It's nice to put things in boxes though. It's like an exorcism. And I see all of my things coming out from behind her piles of mess. (Heaping things in a corner is not tidying them away. Sorry, but it's not. And it's been like that ever since she moved in, two and a half years ago. Every corner is gunked up with another huge pile of her crap.)

Someone is lending me a circular saw. Yes, someone is that stupid. I have decided to finally make the plunge and cover up the orange carpet of doom with some parquet. (Don't worry too much about the circular saw, I have put down one or two floors already and sliced it all up with one of those babies, and nobody has ever died yet.) I am not quite sure how I'm going to do it, seeing as I will have to move the piano and the sofa and I don't have anywhere to move them to, like. But it will be done.

I will probably ask Delilah to help me. Poor girl. She's always helping me do heavy lifting. It's not my fault she's so freakishly strong.

Anyway, anyway, anyway. It's about five in the morning, which means my body is about to start to wake up and want to do things. Interestingly enough, the cat shares this trait. So she is going to start randomly attacking fluff, and I am going to attack the washing up. Our neighbours just love us.

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