Goodness me! Smoking and writing till 4am. Scampered off to bed, finally, at 5.30. thinking, if I didn't, the next thing I knew would be the cleaner walking in the door at 10am. Remembered I had to leave money and written instructions as soon as I got comfortable, as David was interstate and couldn't, I promised. Decided I could legitimately sleep through everything with minimal fallout. The cleaner would go home with no money, essentially that was the worst. Up at 1.30pm. I think I'm getting the hang of this quite nicely.
Thick head, though.
Need coffee.
Wandered down stairs, wondered where the cleaner was? Thanked the universe as I listened to her call in sick message. "Not bad... God," I said... then dissolved into laughter. "5 million, a house by the sea and a thirty something Italian who thinks I'm, well, you and then we'll talk seminaries."
Jumped at the bean grinder whirring into action.
Couldn't read my first text because my right eye was gunked up, again. (How many medical appointments is this going to take?)
Reeled back at the day light like a vampire, as the front door swung open, as I headed out for cigarettes and the newspaper. Went back for my sunglasses on this overcast day.
The shop felt like a mighty long walk away away.
Thanked the universe that I never took to alcohol.
Returned to the loft, in a flutter, as my right eye started it's weeping trick in the wind, again.
Returned calls. Actually, decided after the first phone call only to text.
Switched on my computer. Wondered how bad sitting at my computer yesterday for 16 hours really was for me?
Opened Tropical Fever. Wondered if I could get a little boy on boy action in the first sex scene? Decided it will have to wait until the third sex scene.
Decided on more coffee.
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