Men are asses.
Shocking! I have absolutely no clue how that's spelt!!
One week away and I've forgotten how to do the dishes, my fridge reeks of smelly cheese (Anaheeta's that got left behind!), the bed looks like a hand grenade gave birth, my poor flat like ground zero, and my best friends are cereal, bananas, Brazil nuts and yogurt.
Friday looms and nary a single sentence of my proposal deigns to make an appearance. My eyeballs hurt, stomach growls and back aches. Sleep. Enormous quantities. Tiramisu and red wine. To be avoided. Duvet. To be cocooned in. Conference call. 8 am. Heating?? Wait for the little git to show up and start whining. Home sweet home.
Waaaaah!!
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