Ok ok so I was a bit of a sad sack in my last two posts, admittedly there has been no improvement in any area of my life since but I have managed to cheer the fuck up considerably, thanks to lots of stand up comedy on youtube and then I even managed to whack one out after a particularly hilarious comparison between single and married people. Oh the joys of single life. I do love it so…. Anyway yeah sorry about all that noise and complaining about shit. I’m back to normal now I think so let me tell you about the newest addition to my fortress of sluttitude, a set of black silk sheets. Oh I love them. They make my bedroom look like a place of sex and not just eating and internet fuckery. Just hope I don’t stink them all up and have to wash them too soon, because it’s very unlikely I’ll get some man back here any time soon. I’ve escalated the shared eye-fuck moments with hot barman since coming back here, but honestly have no idea how to get him to make a move. Why is his bar so damn busy and popular? There’s never a quiet moment to give him a chance to slime onto me, and also, whenever I go there and he doesn’t hand me the bag with my sandwich, I avoid his gaze in a really impolite retarded manner I have no control over.
Ahhh kind of tired now but so feeling better about shit, can almost handle the idea of going to work tomorrow, almost. Mmmmh Saturday night in alone… so fucking boring. Maybe I’ll try on some clothes and heels and cook myself a proper dinner.
Had a frozen pizza when I got home from work in a moment of despair, then popped some nasty pills. Get right back in the saddle. And made another fucking decision about shopping today- there will be no more shopping. I will go through my wardrobe and take out EVERYTHING. And only put back in the stuff I actually wear and like and that suits me. And catalogue everything else with photos and put in labelled bags or boxes… actually that part is unlikely. I won’t ever get around to doing that. But I do want to sort my stuff out because I have SO many clothes, you have no idea. I mean really, I have like… I don’t know how many dresses just hanging in my wardrobe right now. I’m going to count them now. But bear in mind this is just the dresses hanging up right now, and doesn’t include my winter clothes which are in old broken wheeled suitcases and bin bags because this country has fucking seasons, man. Oh dear sweet jaguar penis, I counted them. I have hanging up in my wardrobe 78 dresses. This is only summer clothes, and it doesn’t include all the dirty ones waiting to be washed or the washed ones waiting to be put away, so that’s probably another 20 or so floating around the house…. I got a problem. Do I wear all these clothes? No. Not really. I have a lot of clothes in there waiting for a fancy dress party I will never be invited to, or some ridiculous one night stand fantasy that will never happen in precisely the right way for the dress to be suitable…. Ok I’m going to reduce some of the shit I don’t wear. If only I took better care of my belongings I might be able to sell some of them…
Damn laptop is at insane heat levels, it’s burning my FINGERS just to type. Should turn it off. Turn it off… what would I do then? No fucking way. Well at least better stop typing because it is actually burning my hands, seriously. Ok. Good night.