onlyemma's Diaryland Diary
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Remember when Christopher Robin wouldn't eat his carrots?
I really need to do more with my Friday nights than sit on my bed eating Asda�s attempt at the worst Moroccan cous cous ever and listening to O-Town. Remember O-Town? No of course you don�t. That job�s been left to me and three others.
So I had to cover reception today and by the end of the day I was slightly paranoid as whenever anyone walked down the stairs or through the door they'd say, "can you smell baby sick?"
And in another of life�s mysteries, I'm inexplicably excited about my new box of Bold. How uneventful does your life have to be that washing powder makes your heart leap? Its lavender and chamomile and I can�t stop smelling it.
But in news more worthy of being called news, I'm moving to a new flat next week. To glorious Golders Green, which mainly excites me as I�ll finally be living by a Tube station meaning I can read a free paper every day and know what�s going on outside of The Hills and the bottom of my cup of tea. This moving out lark all seems a bit sudden though; even though I�d been looking to move out for a while (you�d have thought the notion would have encouraged me to save up but it didn't), but now we're actually at the moving out stage of moving, I seem to find it incredibly difficult to do any sort of packing. I may be in denial that I am leaving Borehamwood, and as I like to ignore life's big changes until they slap me in the face, this is a very plausible theory that I�m going to stick with until the night before I leave.
Due to this, my main worry in life at the moment is, "will I get the biggest room?" and most mornings I get the churning stomach when I wake up, the feeling usually associated with proper adult anxieties worthy of a stomach upset like money troubles, heartbreak and mysterious lumps. Therefore my sister thinks I must have a very good life indeed if that is in fact my biggest worry, however I don't think she actually realises just how much I want that big room.
But unfortunately I am not the only one of our new merry clan to have the same big-room ideals and dreams of floor space large enough to accommodate over-sized bean-bags and the possibility of a dance-mat. Oh no, to add to my silent internal plight, today at work I got an email from one of my future flatmates (a friend of a friend whom I haven�t yet met, but whom I hope likes O-Town) which troubled me somewhat, as she�d built herself an extremely good case as to why she needs a big room. I just didn�t see it coming as I�d naively hoped that I was the only one who gave a crap, giving me an emotional advantage. But honestly, if we were building defence cases on which we�d decide who is the worthiest of the best room I would�ve started my story-boards a long time ago. And somehow, �I just want one� doesn�t seem to cut it when it�s put up against a fledgling architect in need of creative space to release her flare and make her models.
So I may have to re-think a few things. I doubt a jury would swing in favour of me if I used my counter-attack inkling that one day, some time in the not-so near but possibly not so far away future, I may need the space to have another bash at my 3D cardboard model of The House at Pooh Corner.
12:52 a.m. - 2009-08-29
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