Shit. I've got an interview in 8hrs time and I can't get to sleep yet.
Must the nagging thought of missing out on Arsenal vs Real Madrid that's forcing this insomniac streak.But then again, I havent been sleeping BEFORE 5am for almost 2 months now...
Nah, it's the match.
I need to be clubbed. Preferably on the head.So lala land beckons.............................
On that note, I havent been clubbing quite as much anymore. It must be the lack of good djs which can make my die-die list. Or it might just be because I rather chill with the gf more. Or *gasp* I must have had it up to here with clubbing.It's all three lar.
So....I need new fun. Retail therapy (the gf is miles better at this, of course) surely counts as one. Nothing beats the feeling of buying your way into some material warmth. Like those pudgy goldfish (they are my boys, hokay?!) making a corner of my desk their habitat now. They are a recurring expense of course but once the retail therapeutic effect wears off, you get something quite different.A sense of responsibility, yo?
Everybody now......AWWWWWWWWWWWW!
You can have it too if you intend to spend your lousy hours cleaning after those bastards, erm boys. That said, they are still my boys.
So get your dirty paw out of there! Pronto!
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