two years

It's my 2-year blogoversary today.  And what better way to celebrate than with a picture of my beloved darling little cat:

good things

Good things about the single life:
sleeping in the middle of the bed
playing music whenever I want
singing (well, droning tunelessly) in the car
Sunday mornings with a pot of coffee, a book and still in pyjamas at midday

I knew I shouldn't have had my hair cut...

...I got called "sir" twice today.

Twice!

born to be mild

Today I decided to go crazy and get my hair done.

It is now an inch shorter than waist-length and parted on the left instead of in the middle.

And after all that excitment, I'm having a nice cup of tea and a slice of raisin bread.

whinge

I promise I will stop whinging soon, but will you indulge me in one more self pity-fest?  Thank you.

After A left I remembered fairly quickly Scenes From A Single Life.  You know the kind of thing - responsible for 100% of everything, less money, more space, having to get the step ladder out to reach the top shelf in the kitchen, coming home late to a dark flat, cooking 1/4 of what I cooked before.  It was saddening, but I seemed to step back into it all as if it hadn't been four-and-a-half years.  I even cleared out the guttering with barely a scream when I discovered a spider among the leaves.

But then, on Saturday I was getting ready to go out and hauled an old dress out of the back of my wardrobe for the occasion.  A dress with a zip in the back.  I couldn't quite bend or twist or reach far enough to do it up, and instead of wearing something else instead, I dissolved into a sobbing mess at the end of the bed.  It took me almost an hour to get a grip on myself, thread a ribbon through the zip and do it up that way.  I guess you never know how or when grief is going to hit you.

it's real

A came over on Wednesday evening and took away the rest of his stuff.

It's true. He's really gone and it's really over.

This sucks.