Even more holiday happiness

Holiday! At last! I have been working my ass off (wish I could work it off actually, but apparently being a member of the gym is not enough, one must actually go in order for it to have an effect) – 14 hour days at the hospital, bodily fluids and crazy people aplenty. But no more, and I shall not even speak of it for it is past and no longer in my mind.

So I haven’t written for a while. Mainly because some lily-livered work-shy covetous PIG stole my laptop, right out of my bedroom, while I was in the kitchen and so I am now computer-less, music-less and generally pissed off. But also because I have barely enough time to keep up with all of my dramas, let alone share them with a pretty uninterested audience.

I have moved into my new house, with flatmates who don’t draw lines on the milk and shun me at every opportunity which is nice. The downside to this is that I seem to have moved in with a bunch of slobs and spend my time huffing and puffing and ostentatiously doing the washing up while they hog the television in the quest to complete Tony Hawk 4. Curses to whoever invented PlayStation. No, they are lovely though – four boys, M, A, T and S (how convenient that their names all start with different letters. Four girls, including myself, A’s girlfriend C, my lovely friend G and S’s girlfriend C.. oh dear. All these initials. I’m confusing myself. Although having read so much recently about how we leave internet ‘footprints’ I am loathe to identify too much about my life, you know just in case. I don’t want to have to censor what I write.

Myself and M (whose girlfriend I appear to have become, unwittingly and unintentionally) were the first to move in, and have been good friends almost from the start. Extremely good friends. Until he started to refer to me as his girlfriend. Why must people ruin fantastic sex with commitment? Forgive me for being shallow, but we had an agreement. At the moment, while I am home, we are in limbo – I keep trying to break up with him, but ending a proper relationship is hard enough, let alone one whose existence I am trying to deny. I do like the boy, he’s sweet and funny and… well, I mentioned the fantastic sex, right? But I don’t want a relationship. It’s not long since I was with S (might have been between diary entries, that one – not going to go into it) which was pretty disastrous really. Also, I have my eye on someone else.

Slightly concerned I’m going to get a lot of notes from fundementalist christians condemning me as a harlot… mind you, at least I’d get some notes then.

Plans for my meagre three week holiday include my customary reaquainting myself with my beautiful city, mandatory visiting of grandparents and some serious quay-jumping with my lovely friend, and now housemate, G. My mother has abandoned me and swanned off surfing for two weeks, leaving me an empty house, an empty fridge (although a full wine cellar) and strict instructions to water the tomatoes, so perhaps a party or two may be in order.

That was a quick update of the things on my mind at the moment, although I have four entire days of being housebound until I get paid, so don’t worry, there’ll be more!

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