...so, naturally, that means I shall spend the rest of the evening drinking, with my feet propped up on the neglected exercise bike for stability, given the rickety nature of my chair, whilst eating cadbury's heroes, already layered in the box according to preference (still can't decide if the procedure for that is favourites at the top or the bottom. Maybe I should shake up the box and introduce an element of tension and excitement into my evening. It is an hour until the Dancing On Ice results, after all).
I do like being home. Dad buys an awful lot of a well known brand of rose wine that tastes a lot like strawberries. I can get through quite a bit in an evening, with my trusty tray of ice cubes melting by my side. Mum just came in to offer me a bacardi based alcopop which "I haven't drank since I was about 14, thanks anyway". Bless.
Says a lot for my social life that I have to go to my parents house to get pissed.
Occured to me after I got in the house that I hadn't told them I had my tongue repierced three weeks ago. Felt the ideal moment was immediately after mum mentioned she'd seen an old friend whose daughter had gotten a tattoo recently, to which mum had gloatingly responded that "sapped had gone through a weird phase of getting metal things stuck in her face, but she's grown out of that now". I promptly stuck out my tongue. Ahahahaha.
Coming home always means post. I had two Dylan Moran live DVDs, a phone bill (high. Can I fathom out Orange's bills? Could a fish use a pedalo?), a lesbian arts and literature magazine (same as always - reviews for things I'll never read, ads for civil partnership services, 'Certified Muff Diver' t-shirts), a Dorothy Perkins storecard that mum has already paid off (phew), and a letter from Intellingent Finance addressed to Sapped and Ex-Girlfriend about the exciting new interest-rate levels on our savings jar, 'FLAT DEPOSIT'. She said she would close that account. I took all the money out of it to pay rent on my flat in Hull with the promise I'd pay her back half of it. That was in September. Nobody understands why I still want to pay it back despite me finding out about Kooky Eighteen-Year Old Bit Of Stuff shortly afterwards. If I don't, it makes me feel like it worked as a kind of pay-off. Compensation. If I do pay it, that means handing over a large some of money that I don't have, possibly about nine months after I borrowed it, and possibly funding their own flat deposit, and I REFUSE to be understanding and generous like that, it's not in my nature.
I still need to go though her stuff, and soon. I got as far as standing on a stool to look on top of my wardrobe. Then I saw the box containing the diamond bracelet she bought me for my 21st birthday. Swift de-clambering and consumption of biscuits ensued. Better than vodka and razors I suppose.
If my own depression isn't enough to deal with, now the goldfish are at it. All the gravel-hoovering, bloodworm, revitalising tonics, beneficial bacteria and general disease remedies I can muster are having disappointing results. Maddy is off her food and hanging around at the back of the tank. If I say hi, or wave their favourite brightly coloured Chinese takeaway menu at them, she actually turns her back on me! Juliet is turning into a spiteful teenager, trapping Alan in the flowerpot, nipping at him whilst patrolling the entrance, and stealing food, which, when you think about it, is the only commodity any of them have. Alan, the poor thing, looks so desperate and harrassed that I'm thinking of getting him his own tank. He lives with an unstable teenager and a moody uncommunicative wife. In our world, I could give Maddy some St John's Wort, stop Juliet's allowance so she can't afford to smoke, and send Alan somewhere calm and relaxing, like a garden shed, or perhaps fishing. I shall monitor the situation closely, recommending counselling where appropriate. I've left them alone for the weekend, so perhaps the lack of food will bring them closer together. A bond will form whilst they scavenge amongst the gravel for last night's scraps. I live in hope.
