100 words

He’d given up and started taking sleeping pills in the day time, exhausted with the constant tugs just at the edge of his consciousness, like a song you almost recognise but can’t quite place. It was a restless sleep, half-buried under a pile of silk pillows and curly-toed slippers, but it was unarguably a much better existence at night. Just Billy’s half-formed wishes for books, Klubbo’s wistful yearning that they’d reattach his legs. Bugger the prestige, the décor, the whimsical names. ‘BÖJA’. Hah. No ‘new lamps for old’ would tempt him again – it was hell being a genie in Ikea.

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Apparently some year 9s in a focus group said they enjoyed my teaching. \o/!

And on my birthday it's going to be the English department night out, so I don't have to sulk around being self indulgent!

And on the 11th December I'm going out in London, and anyone I know in the vicinity is totally invited!

Today is :D with a side order of zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

(no subject)

I have such house envy at the moment. I keep staring at/into people's houses like a creepy creeper, pining after my very own kitchen, and living room, and space. I miss getting up as noisily as I wanted, and not being judged for what I ate, and being able to leave clothes on the floor when I was late for work, and having a door that closed, and doing yoga. I so very much want my own space, space for my books and my life; it feels like I'm on the edges of someone else's at present and nothing can fully start for me.

I'm not sad, for the record; I'm actually rather happy today, if in a soft-around-the-edges sleepy way. I'm just pining.

In happier news, for dinner I had caesar salad, smoked salmon pate on gluten-free toast, followed by a little Gu banoffee desert thing. Nom. :D