Drying out

Well, after a 2-or-3-day binge, I finally seem to have drunk myself sober. To the uninitiated, this basically means that I was indulging for so long that my body built-up a tolerance, so it stopped having much of an effect at all. I’m still a little shaky, but this should pass soon enough.

I’ve also managed to turn my sleep pattern upside-down, so I’m mercifully pottering about my hovel in the cool and peace of the night. This estate tend to get loud during the summer, as the scally (“white trash”, to my American readers) tenants noisily spill out into the street like rats at low tide in the sewer. I can now just stick on a white noise track and drown them all out as I sleep.

I contacted my telephone provider about that engineer who never turned up, but they didn’t have a particularly coherent reason as to why it happened. Or why I wasn’t graced with a courtesy text to warn me, but hey-ho. I felt the call centre agent was charmed by my easy-going nature, as I declined to file a complaint, and emotional honesty. I talk to so few people these days that customer service staff tend to experience the brunt of my self-pitying. Still, I keep hoping for an unofficial text from her asking if all is well.

Life works just like a porno, right?

Anyway, the appointment has now been rebooked blah blah blah. I have my energy company coming out this coming Monday in order to fit a smart meter. They tried this before, but apparently couldn’t gain access to some wiring box downstairs in the building. I dunno, it’ll probably happen again and the appointment will be pointless, so I’m keeping an open mind. Maybe I’ll just cancel it so not to cut into my drinking time.

I will need to tidy-up my kitchen, with all its alcoholic paraphernalia, after all.

I just heard a large vehicle manoeuvring out in the street, which may have been a fire engine. I couldn’t smell any smoke, and there wasn’t the usual gathering of nosy neighbours to watch, so maybe it was a suspected gas leak. A few weeks ago, fire personal were going from building to building trying to find… erm… something, but never did. Who knows what it was. This estate is like a bug zapper for cross-service emergency vehicles.

There’s not much food in the flat, so I’m hoping to order a takeaway later. I’ll probably go Chinese, in terms of cuisine. The rubber insulation around my fridge’s door has come loose, so it either creeps open or can’t be shut at all. I need to call the council to get them to send me out a new one. It’s pretty pathetic having to sticky-tape one’s fridge door shut, I must say.

I’ve just had my morning “toast therapy”, which is always a treat. I now use sourdough bread, which takes twice as long to brown, but it’s totally worth it! I also sprinkle some grated parmesan over the slices, which knocks the whole experience up about five notches. Fancy, huh?

I’ll be carrying on with that Bruce Lee boxset later, which I’m looking forward to. Firstly, however, I need to scrub myself off, as I have missed a day’s worth of grooming. Not a great thing to do during a heatwave! I’ve also ejaculated over my tummy a few times, so that can’t smell great either.

On that note, I shall leave you here and go run my bath.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!