I love the fact that one of the first things I am told when I arrive at SOs parents new house my the mother is that I mustnt flush tampons down the toilet. Er. Well duh. I mean. I never have. Never would. Just mortified by the whole thought.
(though of course there is also no bin, but as luck would have it pill stupidity seems to have calmed down )
Glad I bought my little red riding hood cape. Largely cos it’s warm and cute and SO hates it and says I look retarded and I DONT CARE!
Day 2 in Norfolk and going a bit stir crazy. Having finished the bulk of my work assignment im forced to socialise. To be fair SOs mother makes an effort in her own way. You know…kitschy xmas things, stuff like that. What I could do without, is the long discussion about how awful it is when people get old and die. Im totally trapped here. I cant go anywhere unescorted. In fact this is precisely what SOs mother said to me…yet she accepts it. I’m sorry but I don’t think that’s right. Not one bit.
We ladies went out for a 5 min stroll which was apparently sufficient (was it? I didn’t see any horses…) and the menfolk have been dealing with loft insulation…
In keeping with the xmas spirit my paper was rejected once more without review. This is just another blow to an already imperfect season. No riding (due to stupid illness) no sleep due to hunger. No freedom. No poetry.
I am accostomed to washing twice a day. I find it hard enough to cope with only one wash a day but when its been 36 hours since your last wash it just gets a bit much. I feel v gross and hope I am allowed / offered a bath tonight.
If only I could be s bit positive but you know, things like toothbrush running out of battery, lack of cleanliness, lack of sleep, being ‘woken’ by being hit on the arse, paper rejection, claustrophobia, having to hide meds (because SOs parents must not know I’m on antidepressants apparently), lack poor fresh fruit and veg and all the rest, im just not feeling very festive.