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I'm at home, home home. As I've not been very well at all. It's alittle gutting as I'm missing a week of the filming workshop.. & I took some particulary lovely footage of my love & I have to wait, wait till I can look at it again.
Monday was the climax of all the previous weeks squished into a horrible evening of.. well. It wasn't very nice..
Mum came to the rescue & drove me back from Norwich, for me to stay here for the week to recover. I'm feelin better than I did Monday, but eating is hard to judge. Tired & stiff & faint & unable to sleep. Sigh, when it rains it pours.

I'm sure I got con-ed this afternoon.. I paid £9.00 for a iron cover, that was made for less than a fraction. But, even if he wasn't from the unemployment & something, he'll be happier with the money & since I'm at home I'm not spending anything.

I'm a bit of a mug.

Plus our landladies a shit. An utter shit, turns up when she likes, late, days later, weeks later & I've still got a bloody leak above my computer - not to mention a very supicious watery thud, thud above our bed.
Ya'll all know England is a very wet country, right?

Despite all this, the feeling of home is nice
But being away from Chris makes me pang.

ciao

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