So, I am facing my second night alone in a row, which may not sound like much to pout about, however I am rather used to having my boyfriend around for cuddles and general bed time antics. Those of you who  have read my earlier posts will know he is away due to a hand injury acquired during the dangerous act of making fajitas, and although his attempts to persuade me that he will be just fine are extreamly lovely and much appreciated I am just not all that appeased at all. The fact that I find it hard enough to sleep without him generally is a possible indicator at how challenging attempting sleep is with flashbacks of blood all over the kitchen. As a result, I am fully awake; chain smoking, playing old pokemon games and picking at my finger/ toe nails. Not only this, but I am currently in the middle of a categorical heatwave, and this, for someone who feels completely naked and incomplete without a blanket is just another torture in itself. For this reason, I have decided to write one of my (hopefully) funny anecdotes to pass some time while deciding between pot noodles or another cigarette:

As my boyfriend and I attend different universities ( although his is only about 9 minutes away by train) you can imagine that I would be going to a lot of parties, social events, pubs, clubs etc. without him. In the past my drunken state would be categorised by being a late night nuisance; frequently calling my boyfriend at ridiculous times simply to state in a slur how much I miss him, and how I am not at all plastered off my face. However, as of late I have noticed a new pattern developing; an obscene love for inanimate objects. Now, before people read this and refer channel 4 to call me for an interview or ask them to do one of those odd documentaries in my honour I would like to say that it does not a) happen when I am sober and b) does not go beyond a rather awkward making out session. These inanimate objects tend to take the form of lampposts, cars, trees, and really anything I can pounce on on my way back home after probably being thrown out of a club (fun fact: I rarely leave clubs, I am more placed outside them for the safety of others). My primary concern on this matter is discovering some sort of tree version of an STD and unwittingly passing it on to my boyfriend who will then be rushed from doctor to doctor with me while they investigate this new disease. However, on the up side, when I sober up I am never left with the feelings of guilt that I presume I would experience if the object of my drunken affection was a real person, I am rarely left feeling violated and used and apart from having to frequently remove tree bark from the washing machine believe this is not a problem I should really dwell on.

If any of you do see any kind of documentary about this sort of thing in the future, please do not assume it is based or is about me. Many Thanks.

Grace xImage

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