Which puts me in the middle of a war. It’s a war of attrition raging inside my skull as I try and get a certain man out of my head. He popped in there quite without warning and now he will not budge….
Mentioning no names for it will be like opening a giant can of worms however suffice it to say, we had something, we now no longer have something and as such he should be floating off somewhere in the ether and not taking up valuable space in my brain that I could be using to look at shoes or err, write my damned book. I’m considering putting a hairband round my wrist and so every time I either think of him or starting singing ‘Chiquitita’ in my head again I’ll give it a twang and the pain will distract me….
First day back at work today after a luscious Easter break, yours truly had a horrific nights sleep and so slept through the alarm eventually staggering in to work an hour late and feeling like I’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Charming friend told me that I looked like I had been rubbing curry paste on myself – so much for having a hint of a healthy glow with my sunless tanner…. Of course I’m now harbouring revenge fantasies involving getting him blind drunk and shaving his eyebrows off or selling his car on EBay.
Came home from work in glorious sunshine, threw my clothes off and danced round in my pants to Pat Benatar to shake off the doom of being back in the office, threw on some summer clothes (glee! joy! screech!) and then did a spot of administrations (filing bills in the square metal thing under the desk) before settling down to watch Holysmokes. Yes, I know it’s shit but shhh, it has pretty boys in it and if you watch it with the sound down you don’t even have to hear their squeaky twatbaggy whinging.
I was about to say that he who shall not be named (no, it’s not Voldemort) had left my head but the very art of thinking about typing that has firmly placed him back right squak in the middle of my grey matter. *Bangs head on coffee table*