2004-10-06..5:29 p.m.

I seem to have had a weird oral fixation all day. I�m STARVING! After a serious breakfast of grapefruit with two pieces of wholegrain wheaten sprout-y organic bread* breakfast smeared with honey, I�ve had half an old pizza (one of those Tesco one's, which I picked up about a week ago, but passed both odour and visual testing)(lLok at me not like that! If there's no mould it's fine!) with some spinach and a mushroom sliced over, and not one but TWO pieces of toast with honey AND a quarter grapefruit (saving the rest of that puppy as a very civilised evening aperitif) I�m also drinking loads of water. Strangely though, I�m not tired. i think leaving the office midday did it for me. We should really do as the Spaniards do and clock up some siesta points during office hours in this country.

*Sprouted Wheat Bread always makes me think of aging potatoes.

I think I�ve mentioned before that I�ve been in the unfortunate position of having to find a place to live for the past couple of weeks. I was SUPPOSED to move into a flat last weekend, but the terminating visa that caused the room to be vacated was, by a cruel twist of unkind Fate, extended. Thus the past week I have not only been working in the office full-time three days a week, evenings four times a week and attending seminars and lectures, but also trying to find a flat. And trying to fit in actually completing the readings so my attendance isn�t futile. And attempting to maintain some sort of contact with my family. And slotting in *ahem* quality time with M. It�s been no easy two weeks. Regardless, my gorgeously fabu current flatmates letting the girl taking my room move in TOMORROW, despite the fact she�s not supposed to move in until FRIDAY. Which means I need to be packed with my shit out of my room by tonight. Actually I have no right to be resentful or snarkie. As I have no place to actually move into tomorrow they�re letting me kip on the sofa, which is really kind of them, until Saturday morning when M and I will load up his car and shift it all to his new place.

Now none of that thank you. We�re NOT moving in together rather I am merely crashing at his until I find a place that will let me live in peace with cool people centrally located and at the most �80inc. So a couple of days then (ha. ha.) And I�m not going to �get used to it and wind up staying there� (as my friend Al so delicately put it), because he lives in Brockley. Know where Brockley is? No? Middle of Butt Fuck Nowhere South London is where Brockley is. As soon as I can get a place on the North side of the Thames, I�m outta there.

I don't have THAT MUCH more than I thought, but I do have quite a bit. In the end my entire material life in this country will amount to the contents of two suitcases, two duffel bags (v light due to linen/Personal Admin papers), two boxes of books, one box of books and CDs and a stolen Tesco's delivery crate of (a rather hygienic combo of) food and miscellaneous crap (I just wrote miscellaneous CARP and am now lamenting my carpless existence. Sigh.)

When I get home tonight (or rather when M gets home tonight) he�s going to give me a back rub. I went home at lunch for laundry purposes and ended up packing and generally faffing about scrutinising how efficiently I pack, looking at boxes and pondering the need of a Sharpie and accidentally ended up staying there for almost two and a half hours (..oops) which has made me all back ache-y.

Last thing, and then I go: started uni last week and it�s like I�m finally allowed to breathe again. My once-firm dependence on cigarettes is quavering slightly, such is the weight of dullardry being lifted. In any case, because of Club Shit-o-Rama this past week I�ve hardly had any time to put in proper reading hours and woke up yesterday morning humming the chorus line of Dora. Yes folks, it�s Freud: The Opera! Open seven nights a week, plus a matinee for the kiddies. I nearly died. I figure that because I�ve had no time to really think about things while I�m awake my sleeping self is trying to take over in that department. It�s help I don�t need, though I�m sure old Siggy would have had a field day with it.

K. I�m gone, night night!

****meep