Tomorrow we move apartments. Away from Raz (whose legally changed name is: Rastafarian Jesus) and his snoring directly upstairs (he has been a very good, sweet and slightly creepy neighbour including offering to loaning us his lesbian sex DVD’s and sharing his belief that all gay men secretly want his body and are lying in wait). Tomorrow we are moving to a two-bedroom where I get my very own study/library/workroom to fill with books and a small fridge full of Coca-Cola and red liquorice. There I will blog and write my slightly demoralizing yet compelling fiction. But first I have to move.
Right now I am packing up the bathroom which is a lot more interesting than I hoped. What I wanted to find were all the drugs that Linda has hidden to stop me from trying to overdose myself into in a coma. Instead I have found enough sanitary products for an army of Amazons. Since Linda gets very absent minded I tend to put “emergency” sanitary stashes here and there but it seems Linda has as well, either that or we got drunk and spent an entire evening repeatedly buying Tampax and Always (are 5 jumbo packs enough? Apparently not).
Other interesting bathroom things found and accumulated in the four weeks we've been here: a tube of glass wipe cleaners, a packet of ankle socks (Does Linda remember buying this?), three tubes of toothpaste, four types of Christian Dior lip-gloss and in the very back of the cupboard a book on different types of hair braids. Since we believe in the “blow dry the front and always face forward” type of sloth hair-styling behavior this book seems particularly ambitious.
I wonder if it would be a good “date night” to have a “Sleepover Sunday” where we wear our PJ’s, eat ice-cream and waffles, watch 80’s movies and braid each other’s hair? Are there good dyke braids? Did k.d. lang ever braid?
And yes, I am procrastinating.
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