I went to see a room this afternoon which turned into an absolute disaster.
First of all the photo of the townhouse was actually of the one next to it, squating in the shade of its bright paint.
When i walked in it smelt of undried panties and yellow underarm stains, the girl had the allure of a wet wipe, used.
She showed me the lounge, atleast that wasn't brown. Showed me upstairs to the room which she proclaimed could fit a queen sized bed, yes, queen sized bed for pygmies maybe.
The bathroom looked as if it had been cleaned by someone with carpal tunnel syndrome, dead skin cells partying on the shower ledge .

girl - "i have an ensuite in my room but i like to come into this bathroom for a bath"

me - blank stare

I was told about the rules of the house and that someone was waiting to see the room so she will text me on monday.

I stared at her blonde hair, it isn't natural, her roots seem to have given up any sort of statement, they're resigned to being fucked by a bottle.

I left hastily.

Whilst crossing back to victoria road i was sad, this room mate thing isn't working out like on big brother where they're all horny and eager for something. The reality is as appealing as globulous spit on the edge of a rubbish bin.

I popped round to my boss because i thought i ought to share my misery and who else better than with my boss.

She pounced on me and asked if i wanted to house sit for a week.

Oh, i thought, where? where?

it was only next door.

So she showed round this miniscule federation cottage heavily dosed with old-woman style.
Olive velour chairs and a ...wait for it, VCR player.

The redeeming feature is a friendly tortise shell cat and the opportunity of house sitting for 6months when the occupant leaves for overseas in a months time.

I felt like i had experienced a miracle , that God grabbed his toaster and shook the crumbs out and somehow a piece of burnt raisin toast fell into my life.

Tonight i spent in a panic, what do i pack?

Everything is so heavy, denim is heavy no matter how skinny the cut.
It's winter so i need layers which means the bag will be heavy .
I have to use a trolley bag and a carry bag.
I can't fit my candles in and i'm having a melt down with the thought of using my facial cleanser as a body wash aswell.

I wont have internet!.

I need more light but warm clothes, i need more cashmere , i need a big trolley bag., why do books have to be so heavy? is it because they have so many words? I have to take my laptop because the old woman hasn't got a dvd player, i have to take dvds , what about underwear? and i haven't even gotten to my shoes and manchester unless i sleep on her bed with her, er, bedsheets. Isn't that illegal?

It was easier when i was younger, i just arrive then suffered the consquences yet managed to rock .