I haven’t written a post in a while, due to lack of motivation and being trapped under a pile of newspapers, like Principal Skinner that one time. Although that last point might not be true.
I spent most of this morning lying on the floor listening to Thursday. The hood from my dressing gown cushioned the back of my head so it wasn’t uncomfortable. My arms eventually started to feel detached, and I also had to put my socks away, so I got up. I didn’t put my socks away. My boyfriend came back from the shop with some pick n’mix, which I then dropped on the floor, after about five minutes they stopped being ‘floor sweets’ and instead turned into ‘stuff I’m eating off the floor’, so I started flicking them into the bin instead. Some of them went behind the cupboard and I wasn’t quite bothered enough to retrieve them. As well as floor sweets I also have the remnants of vodka lining the pit of my stomach. We have birds living in the attic. Some dude on Deal Or No Deal has just opened a box with £20,000 inside, and he is bawling his eyes out. I think I need to start reading again. I think we will be having chicken for tea. The weevils behind the cupboard will be eating the jellybean remnants, I hope they enjoy them.
‘There is no one who could force his way through here, least of all with a message from a dead man.- But you sit at your window and dream it up as evening falls.’
I might start writing again next week if I am not trapped beneath newspapers.