I have done my best to make this week pass faster, although with little success – it really did go on forever and I have abandoned Dry January now and poured myself a sizeable glass of spritzer. The pack of ten cigarettes is taunting me but I don’t actually feel like having a cigarette, so on balance I’m not feeling too bad. One of the things I’ve preoccupied myself with is Celebrity Big Brother, and watched all the episodes in a reality trash TV marathon during the week. I already liked Katie Hopkins, but now I bloody love her! OK, she is inflammatory and comes out with some pretty harsh opinions, but I’m going to stick my neck out and admit that a lot of the times I completely agree with her.
I was predisposed to also throwing a bit of love in Perez Hilton’s way, given I took a liking to him after seeing a clip of him meeting Victoria Beckham, where he placed a huge muffin in front of her and told her that he wanted to see her eat it. Mrs Beckham was funny too, though, mind – told him that she couldn’t possibly be seen eating or smiling. Kudos to her. Anyway, watching CBB he has emerged as the most vile human being I have ever witnessed. Gosh, talk about being an explosive bundle of a loooooooooooooooot of issues! And Katie Hopkins, intent on taking this poor excuse of a human being down a few pegs, I only love all the more. That Nadia cow, in contrast, stands for many of the personality traits I despise and a few new ones I didn’t realise I hated but do – what an aggressive and pointless woman, utter waste of space.
Oh well. What a crappy week! CBB (I will have to seriously undertake some mental cleansing after stooping so low – don’t think I’ve ever watched that show before), no inspiration for writing (seriously – NONE) and no B (the worst thing of all). And this evening is the worst one, because Monkey’s with his Dad, so all in all utterly sucky. At least B is on his way home soon, just had a text from him and he’s leaving for JFK in a couple of hours. At 9am tomorrow morning, I’ll be at Heathrow, feeling a little nervous about driving there but should be fine. It’s not the actual driving, I’m OK with that part, it’s parking that I’m completely useless at. Oh well. Hopefully it won’t be too manic at Heathrow at that time on a Saturday morning and I’ll be able to find a space with several empty ones each side of it. Otherwise, I suppose it’s valet service for Yours Truly. Nope, I have no shame.
So now what? It’s only 8pm and way too early to go to bed. Have done most of the cleaning, just some laundry to fold and stick fresh sheets on our bed, have put fresh flowers in vases around the place and it’s looking lovely for B to come home to, think we’re all pretty much set. Trust me – I will not allow B to be gone again for this long without me EVER again!