End of A New Era,

I mnt to post this a few days ago, but with my computer deconstructed and in my living room and now the internet being off, I've kind of struggled with actually getting  online and doing it, but here goes...

I'm quite an anxious person, so changing anything in my life feels like a major trauma, especially when it's something that has become a part of me in quite a large way. When I was eighteen I got my first 'proper' job working at a shoe shop in the Trafford Centre. That was three and a half years ago, and I find it hard to believe. Wednesday of this week, I worked my last shift in my home branch here in London, and I wasn't really sure how to feel. 

As I've been mentioning, I have a new job, so it's not like I was leaving the job into some sort of unemployed abyss where I wasn't sure what I was going to do, neither was I jumping into a whole new job that I hadn't tentatively dipped my feet into, but for the last three and a half years, This shop has been a consistent thing in my life. It's been a really mixed bag, with amazing customers, lovely customers, darn right hilariously weird customers and other members of staff, but there were pretty big lows sometimes, too. Ones of my pet hates is rudeness, and I got a hell of a lot of that thrown in my direction from a multitude of people, but that has helped me to deal with people, at least on the outside, a little bit better.

The great thing about leaving is that I have my Wednesday evenings back - any time I can claw away from work or sleeping can only be a good thing, if only I could learn to stop myself procrastinating, but the sad part is all the amazing people I can no longer work with. I've met some amazing people over the last few years, and there are en I few that I plan to stay in touch with. 

As for this weekend, I have the fun of welcoming three new housemates to my lovely house and also a slightly early celebration of being in a relationship with the most boyfriend for a year, though I must admit, even after this amount of time together, it still makes me giggle like a child when I call him my partner, but in a massive way, he really is. Even when I turn into a bit of a snotty little mess, he's there to support me, and all my stupid whims and ideas. He also makes a damn good cup of tea, so what more could I want in a man? 

Anyway, onwards into a new era...

Between Shakespeare and Word Vomit,

After pretty much promising to fall off the radar a bit, I find myself needing wellies whilst knee deep in the constant brain battle that is each bit of life fighting for space within my schedule. As if normality isn't hectic enough, my life is currently in my living room, whilst the house has a bit of a face lift. The only saving grace is that I'm currently living with my lovely partner and an anorexic Shih-Tzu. I'm really not kidding about the last bit. 

Now, there are massive upsides to this, such as being made breakfast in bed (although according to the girl code I'm supposed to narrow my eyes suspiciously at this and ask what on Earth he's making up for?) and the fact that cooking for him is as natural as breathing, but there are a couple of downsides too, such as the dogs and my shared hatred of falling water, made more complicated by his need to urinate on every passing lamppost and sack of green waste. Oh, and he really likes putting his paws on my feet, and I really hate that. I don't know what it is, but animal paws on my feet makes me feel like I want to dry heave...

Now don't get me wrong, any sort of experience past a blank set of four white-washed walls is fantastic for creating something which is anywhere between Shakespeare and word vomit, but I'm not sure how interesting a novel, or even a short story, about the sadness in Bertie's (the Shih-Tzu) eyes as he stares up at my pancakes, would really be. Without some sort of Dickensian description, I'm not sure it would even make it to being a poem, though I do wonder what on Earth could be going through his head as he stares up the garden for hours no matter what the weather is doing. 

Well, my next mission is going to be getting all the parts for a new computer, currently named The Computer Which Potentially Works, as opposed to the Shit Box and the Craptop. Oh, apparently that's cheeky and 'Of course it'll f*ing work; I'm building it!' I hope  he realises I have documented proof of that statement...

Lemon Drizzle Cake,

I've been living in the house on my own for a good couple of months now, but every sound that I haven't made still leaves me practically shitting myself when I'm being totally honest. It's one of the reasons that I love weekends so much, because I'm not quite so jumpy with Ben here. He also made me lemon drizzle cake. It was divine... 

Anyway, I feel like my days are so insanely full with work, the house, convincing myself to go to the gym (yeah, that happens) and just life in general really, it doesn't matter how well I plan things, time just skips merrily out of the window, and if I don't get to sleep before too long, dragging my ass out of bed in the morning will be something of a chore. I'm a simple being - cheese sandwiches and eight hours of sleep is all I need. Oh, and a BIG cup of tea. That's just life though, isn't it? I'm really wishing that the crap top could just get it's shit together and work, just for my bus journeys, because nothing irritates me more than wasting time on bus.

I'm probably going to be falling on and off the writing radar for at least the next couple of weeks, purely because of the amount of time my job takes up, but editing another novel is still on my mind, daily, and I will hopefully get around to it in the near future. Hopefully. Maybe. Someday.

As previously mentioned, I need sleep.