That, being the above, was a boring paragraph. Word of warning: it’s not going to get any better.
Oh god you guys. I’m a misery guts at the moment. I’m experiencing some kind of hormonal clusterfuck, I’ve seen my mum (saying goodbye to her ALWAYS makes me emotional no matter the circumstances, for reasons I am unable to pinpoint), I’m overtired and I spent yesterday afternoon cleaning clumps of someone else’s shit out from under the rim of the toilet. FUCK ME. (Just deleted rant re houseguests. I’m sure you can extemporise.)
You better add to the catalogue of woe my concerns about my hair. It’s gone a heinous dishwater brown and sobsobsob I miss blonde already, even bleached out frizzy nasty blonde. DON’T DO IT, is my advice. JC on a piece of toast, I’m a whinging narcissist with no sense of perspective and TERRIBLE hair.
Oh yes, the visit to the farm was lovely. Hung out with a horse, spent an hour or two pulling fleabane, ate steak, drank wine. V civilised for the provinces, I must say. Given all of that, my whinge seems even more ridiculous, but there it is.