Hello, world.

The last week has been eventful in a nothingy sort of way.

I have had the lovely Miss Nicola staying with me which has been really quite nice and we seem to put up with each other remarkably well considering we are up each other's arse near constantly. The only real change in my life to be honest is the amount of weed I am smoking, which has gone from absolutely none to quite a considerable sum within about a month.

Nicola's life is funner than mine at the minute. She gets booty calls, I get guys who want to get to know me (WITHOUT ACTUALLY LISTENING TO A WORD I SAY!) I give up. I'm marrying the Hippie. Hippie needs a new nickname, I don't feel like Hippie is really very fair. Henceforth she will be Kittentits.

Work, oh work, why do you plague me with your incessant bullshit and occasional opportunity to escape the building. I have absolutely lost all desire to be here. Bye bye, desire. A bunch of people went to Vegas last week, they're all back today so I'm entertaining myself by finding out gossip. So far the best thing I've heard is that someone I don't know on the other side of our floor got so drunk he passed out in the toilets and shit himself, and had to have the door broken down by security who then frogmarched him to his room, still covered in the bowel explosion he had not quite been quick enough to fire down a toilet.

Bless.

Befuddled is back from holiday, I have the strange urge to see him, I hope he can make it down for the flatwarming. Oh yes! Flatwarming!

http://www.andrewsonline.co.uk/renting-letting/property-details.aspx?ID=83018
Nicola and I move into that flat in about two weeks, ish. We were going to flip a coin for the rooms but I think Nic has decided she wants the en suite, haha. I'm excited about moving in, though utterly sad to be leaving home again. I don't want anyone to think I'm a mummy's girl, I fall into the role of one pretty quickly when I live at home but I function a lot better when I don't live at home. I just get absolutely terrified that she will be lonely if I don't live there. It's not even so much about the money, it is just the fear of her being lonely. My relationship with my mother is a strange one complicated by a bizarre family and a more bizarre family history. More than anything in the world I want for her to be ok. Me fucking off and leaving her isn't exactly looking after her. See, this is why I'm actually going to save money by moving out - the rent might be extortionate but I do give Mum a ridiculous amount for living there. And when I think about it selfishly, the point of me moving home was so that I could live cheap for a while and save some cash, but also give mum a monetary boost.

But what has this accomplished? I give mum so much money I can't afford to save anything, and mum has got it into her head that she can live without working. This isn't really healthy for either of us.

Anyway. Here are a list of things that I want, and do not give a shit how realistic this list is.

1. A man who knows what he wants (preferably me) and is capable of occasionally indulging in a two way conversation with me. I know, I know - pipe dream.

2. To be skinny. Actually I don't even want to be skinny, I always want to be reasonably chubby, I just want to not be this chubby anymore.

3. A job I enjoy doing that pays me lots and that I can throw myself into and become one of those sad workaholics, as I think I'd enjoy being one of those if only my job wasn't such total poo.

4. A really big shoe collection, and the loss of all nerves in my feet.