2004-05-21..1:23 p.m.

Dammit Janet, quite seriously thinking of finding a new place. I don't really know what to do, because it would have to be flexible enough for me to get so many hours and allow me to live, but also take the time I'll need to study come September.

Sue (the Office Manager) and Sue (the Temporary Replacement In Charge of Reception) just got out of their meeting and I'm quite curious to know what they've been talking about. It probably wasn't me at all, but rather unnervingly, my future rests in their hands. Ew... My future's being manhandled. It's got suspicious fingerprints all over it. If my future were a crime scene, forensics would have a field day. Partials abound!

Whatevs. I have no interest in thinking about this any more than necessary, and for the next couple of weeks at least, that is not an issue.

I couldn�t get my coffee right this morning.

I know, I know. Hardly the stuff of tragedy (or if we�re truthful, hardly the stuff of Anything Bearing Any Resemblance to Real World Problem), but today I�m tired and feel the Whine coming on and rather than take it in hand, I�m going for Full-on Ignorant Shit. Actually this afternoon is going much better already. Maybe all I needed was to get outside for an hour. I often find removal is the best medicine for the oily stew of Office Gangrene that frequently threatens to amputate the delicate balance of my fretless senses. So yeah. Fretting no longer.

I just got an email from my old housemate Rachi who�s coming over this summer and will be working here too!! Not just a visit! It�s funny that she should write, and tell me all this, I was just telling Matthew (door number 3) about her yesterday and about her cat Bean, and about how she�s this way hot so too cool for school lawyerly rawkin� geek chic chica who should get her ass over here sharpish! And now she IS!

Tonight I�m heading to Oxford to visit R. for a night. O that�s right! Roars Like Fire and I are hitting the mean streets of Oxford, baby! Spray paint and squishy grapes in hand, we shall wreck HAVOC on that sleepy hamlet of a hourandahalf away! Happy Couples and Jogging Fucks Beware! Boreal Aurelius and Zephyr, I�m excited.

Mind you, trying to arrange this all yesterday was not the pleasantest of experiences, and very nearly got seriously pissed off because of the National Fucking Express and their General Fucking Incompetence Inquiries when calling to enquire after fares and timetables. So fed up was I in the end that I chucked a grumpy email at R. saying Look, either pre-book me a ticket, or I�m rescheduling. HOWEVER, I must admit I spoke all too soon, and I love it when I speak all too soon. R, Genius in Residence, Boy Wonder of the Night, sent a quick mail back and thusly bestowed upon me the Mad Skillz in getting to Oxford. A special bus that had NOTHING to do at all with the National Fucking Express! Its called the Oxford Tube! It goes directly from Marble Arch tube station to Oxford city centre! It�s magic in the city! Huzzah! and Huzzah some more!

I�m very excited. He�s not so much door number four, as the trap-door no one warned me about. I wonder if I�m someone�s trapdoor? Hmm.. Anyway, going to stay for a night and then back here for Saturday night to work at the Betsey. Sadly, it can�t be the whole weekend because a. he stinks and has to work, and b. I stink and have to work. BUT if he promises to make a shout out to me on air, then I have promised to get up at 4am and have my breakfast made for me and then STAY UP to listen to my shout out on air. Whoo! On Air Shout Out!

This has been a long and winding and weird and Why Will It Never End kind of week.

Last Sunday spilled into Monday as I recovered slowly from an enormously embarrassing monster hangover. It took me three hours to eat brunch on Sunday. Going up the stairs required frequent rests due to some major altitude sickness and nitrogen poisoning. Navigating the livingroom I got lost. If the kitchen had gone all wild eyed, balanced itself precariously on the ledge outside the twelfth floor window and threatened to jump, I wouldn�t have even been able to nudge a baby trampoline in its general direction. So hungover was I. Monday was subsequently slothy and blue.

Tuesday on the other hand was all go starting with some guy who ran into the House of Commons and lobbed a flour bomb at the prime minister. I�m not sure which I like more, the fact that this is now being considered a Serious Breach of Security, or the fact that this home made piece of weaponry was ingeniously (Why wasn�t the flour-filled condom found? How could anyone with wheat-stuffed contraceptives on their person be allowed through the gates?)(It was a Severe Breach in Condom Detection causing the prime minister years of silly headlines, and leaving him the butt of puns and gags for years to come.)(SO EASY. But I resist because I would digress.)

Tuesday night was spent with number one (the MC) who is an unqualified genius for fixing my computer Tuesday night and letting me fall asleep in front of Best in Show and carrying me to bed and remembering to set the alarm for me, three hours before he has to think about getting up himself. Wednesday was all achy and bruisy. Not from anything outrageously kinky, but due to me (smart girly that I am) deciding to walk all the way from mine to his carrying that damn machine in a bag heavier that it is, and having to use his bike, his bike fit for his 6foot 5inch frame, to cycle back to my place because I�d forgotten the damn cable and the battery wasn�t charged. He was quite impressed with my speed though, less than a half hour round trip. I rule! But I also hadn�t cycled in over a year, so now I can add, I ache, that list of first person imperative statements.

Wednesday I played FreeCell in celebration of having my baby back for 3 hours.

Last night I doored at the Rats, which was a whole realm of headache and imagining putting cigarettes out in my eye balls to dull the pain of other people�s lack of organisation that I am fortunate enough to rarely have to deal with. And then with a particularly lax twist of the arm knuckled Matthew into staying the night for snuggling. Because on Saturday he saw my boobs and because I hate sleeping in tops I got into bed wearing only my pyjama bottom�s. I turned into him to cuddle and he giggled.

Me: What? Him [giggling]: You�re not wearing a shirt. Me [blushing the dark]: Matthew.. Him [gleefully]: You�re naked! Me: [pulling the covers up to my chin]: Cut it out! Him [breaking into giggles again] Me: That�s it, I�m putting a shirt on.

It was fun, because then we wrestled and fell asleep.

I like this. It�s become kind of soft and tender between me and the MC, and kind of playful and curiously less intense between me and Matthew, and the only one I�m sleeping with is Steve from That Band, and that�s enough to hold the Demons of Randiness at bay for days at a time because it is THAT GOOD! Whatevs. There�s a gorgeous intimacy that�s developing on all fronts that is casual, playful, gentle, exotic, erotic, blissful all. It is a bit weird that it�s happening with three separate people, I�ll grant you, but it is nice.

Right. Home. Or rather Oxford.

****meep