Thursday 23 April 2009

Waitin'

Waiting waiting waiting in a dimmed room and with a painful head and a tummy wound up tight like a ball of yarn. Ceiling oh Ceiling bring him back safe for me.

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Yay to the weekend and the impromptu trip to Croydon for a chance at happiness. Yay to spending three hours with a caseworker, feigning politeness, interest, charm. I pray the caseworker is a man.

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When I close my eyes I see bungalows in the sand and cliche clear water. When I close my eyes I am sipping an umbrella drink, swinging in a hammock and living in a postcard. When I close my eyes I can smell the corn with cheese on top.

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Today I answered questions in class as a part of a "panel of lawyers". Three Alan Sugars were sitting in front of me and all I could see was the black frame of my obligatory-only-in-class glasses. Specs just make you feel dorkier but I now dress extra-sexy to counteract the geek effect.

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ADONIS! Where are you eff eff ess. I want to smell you please. I want to curl up in the foetal position and smell you.

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Today I saw John - Standing outside my window, smoking his cigar, ordering his yuppie drinks, trying to take me to sexy clubs, with his braces, wearing pin-striped trousers, texting me things like, "Credit crunch? What credit crunch?", holding up a fan of £50 notes, making a face - and he wanted to go out.

"We're thinking of going out next week and listening to jazz while smoking cigars... Care to come along?"

"Whereabouts?"

"Soho probably."

"Will you order your Courvoisier?"

"Haha! Maybe."

"Can we go to KFC afterwards?"

He looked like I'd just slapped him. "I'd never take you to KFC. Ever."

"Meh. I'll let you know."

How depressing would it be to live your life shielded from the joys of KFC, especially when drunk or hungover?

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Come on sunshine, come home to your girl. I'm waiting for you. Come on baby, I'll love you and kiss you and caress you til you purr contentedly. Come on sweetheart. Come home to me.