The office is too quiet now because the budgies have been returned to the shelter. So no more bird-chatter when I sit in there, and I actually miss the damned pests. They didn’t actually require a lot of maintenance, unlike the dogs. Some food, a bit of flying about outside the cage – which they happily returned to when they were hungry – and being mindful of open windows and doors.

It is Friday night. I am sitting here with course-work, and I don’t want to do any more homework, but I still have a fair bit to go before I’m done. I so want to get this over with before the whole weekend is ruined. I think I’m bad at this being teenager thing.

My phone jumps with texts from my friends who are out having a good time partying and being general hoodlums across town, wondering where the hell me and Mark are, and what can I reply? “I have homework to do” doesn’t seem to be an appropriate response.


Mark asked his dad, when his parents were here, for permission to paint a wall, and he’s done that today. Instead of a boring muted beige in the office, it is now pleasantly off-white. And he made the door-frame black. It looks chick and modern, yes. I insisted that he could decorate the living room however he wanted, but I wanted the office not to be cluttered with rubbish. So, it is pleasingly modern.

When the paint has dried, and the stuff has been put back on the walls, I may post a picture of my man’s handy-work. He’s good with the stuff. I’m well proud of him. Now if he could do something about the floor down in the “cellar” hallway too. When Mark’s dad rebuilt that part to section off Ghost Girl’s flat, they did the walls, and did the floor in the work-room down there. But the hallway is just boring rug.


A bit of TMI here, but the funny thing is that during my convalescence we were celibate; There aren’t many snogging opportunities when I have snot all over my face. It is funny how the needs can grow so much that it pushes out everything.

I can’t claim we’ve been waiting until we’re married, exactly, over the last eighteen months. Interruptions like the last week really hits it home how important that aspect is; just being close physically to someone. I think I’ve started to take that aspect a bit for granted, and it is actually nice to have a reminder that this aspect is not a given.

It did give me an excuse to wallow in angst about starting to take him for granted, and I resolved not to go down such a stupid path. I think that if I ever started to take him for granted, then it would be bad. That’s not to say I need to fret too much about us, which I’ll do anyway, but I’m not sure I should get too used to think that this is the way it should and must be.