I Aten't Dead

[fuchsoid]

I should have spent today madly tidying up, since one of my old classmates, Lauren, is going to be staying here while she looks for a flat in London. She has only ever seen the place once, at night and under dim lighting and the influence of alcohol, when she had Christmas dinner here last year and will probably be appalled, especially by the "spare room", which is currently in its greenhouse phase, and full of trays of seedlings. She also wants to store some of her Stuff here, which will be a problem, since I am already storing quite a lot of the g-d's Stuff, and also found a fair bit of my late aunt's Stuff (let alone my own). I was never the livest of wires, but in the last few years I seem to have lost any vim I ever had. Probably something to do with the dreaded menopause, I suppose. During the morning, I also became convinced that my freelance job had dried up, leaving me short of this month's pay, my new iPod will not work and I was going to die (well, maybe not the last one). Basically, I came down with a bad case of the Nameless Dreads, and spent most of the morning sitting at the computer, moaning softly to myself.

Then I managed to clear a bit of my bedroom floor, so that I could move some Stuff in there, put my morning-glory seeds in to soak, and cleaned the stove top, which cheered me up a bit. The iPod might be fixable, I might be eligible for some sort of disability benefit, and I am perhaps not going to die just yet. Upstairs still looks like a greenhouse with a bed and lots of full cardboard boxes in it, but she'll have to lump it.