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SSar's Beast
Yesterday I left work early, ran around buying presents, and (after a lovely evening with Joel and Frances) came home to discover my departing flatmate had... departed. A day early. He hasn't responded to messages sent to his cellphone or his email, and I have gloomily begun to eat the chocolates I bought for him. If he shows up he can have the rest of the package, but the candy's GONE.

Wanted: one Daniel Z, may have just quit a MacDonald's near you; indelible German accent, smokes, likes TV.

I am using Nik's oncoming incoming as a motivation to actually do some cleaning, with a resolution to do a small cleaning project every night of this week. On Monday, I completely emptied a storage space in the hallway that has not been empty since February last year. Tuesday was Frances, a movie, and Boston Legal, so I did no cleaning, which required that I do two things tonight...


Joel looks on in great amusement as I brandish the broom near the ceiling. "Argh!" I cry, wiping cobwebs from our room's upper corners as I have just done in the bathroom and the hall. "Spider! Nooo! Hang on until-I-get-near-the-window-NO O- don't jump...."

"This may be the best spectator sport ever," says Joel.

"I think the spider landed in your dressing gown," I retort.

(I am not in the extreme range of arachnophobia. I am intellectually aware a daddy-long-legs can't hurt me. Doesn't mean I like them running over me, dangling over my head, or mysteriously loose in my room.)


Having pulled all the cobwebs off the broom, my next trick is to dispose of the two-shots-or-so of 42 Below passionfruit vodka that has not-quite-fit on the kitchen shelf for a whole year because no one will drink it.

This definitely counts as housecleaning.

In other news, today I gave myself a papercut, and after the required indignant "Ow..." I sat for a moment trying to describe the sensation. "Like a sizzly electric shock," I decided. Then I lifted up my arm. There was a paper clip clinging to it.