Junk of the Heart

This is supposed to be the week I get my life in order. But I have just got myself ready to go into uni (I'm meant to drop in on my new tutor before four - it takes me an hour to get there and it's 15:02 according to my laptop) and now I'm sitting here blogging instead. I have a headache.

I also have great plans to redecorate my bedroom and throw out/box up a load of junk. But I'm back at work tomorrow and I haven't done much more than throw out some old receipts I was holding onto.

There is a bag of clothes at the foot of my bed waiting to be returned to Miss Selfridge, and I still haven't picked up those heels. I'm completely unprepared for Saturday, the Big Night out with 'Muffin and Crunchie/Himself.

My little baby Puppy isn't doing very well at the moment. He's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and suffers from a genetic disorder that effects his heart valves. He's lethargic and acting weird and on about six different pills. He's ten so he's quite old for that breed.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my sister's husband's death and I think she might go off the rails. It' going to be a tough day for my niece.

MJ is away and I have the house to myself. I was looking forward to having some alone time with the Boyf but now I kind of wish MJ was here, if only to distract me a bit with his terrible singing in the shower, leaving wet towels everywhere, experimental cooking, and those really awful detective programmes he makes me watch because he hates watching TV alone.

Maybe I subconsciously don't want to sort my life out, because then I will have to make some decisions and I haven't got the foggiest? Maybe some people are just supposed to flounder around aimlessly in the messy debris of moments gone by? Maybe it's no bad thing? We can't all be like 'Muffin with his five year plans, work diaries, strictly adhered to priorities. The man is like a machine. A machine in tweeds and a corporate logo tie! He really knows what he wants and goes for it though. I wish I had such direction!

I'm gonna e-mail my tutor and cancel. Then I'm going to look at my dissertation - I'll probably blog again when I get bored after about five minutes of that. Then I shall go upstairs and start organising things until half past five when Puppy's next truckload of pills have to be administered. Unless the Boyf shows up in the next tens minutes and saves the day - he can get me to uni in twenty minutes.

You know why I was running late in the first place? Straightening my hair. What was that about priorities?