No daily text from GF again. That's two days on the trot this time. I can sense that he can't be bothered but I might as well let him squirm. Should I turn up for Monday's date or should I cry off beforehand? Will he cancel before I get a chance to?
The promised contact from Bob never materialised either. He sent a text yesterday saying that he would let me know an exact date for when the unicorn, oops - I mean my refund, is going to be arranged. I might as well ask the fairies that live in my garden.
Obviously no contact from Mr Right or I would've mentioned it.
Good news though. Work on kitchen has started. I've got eight units in place so far. One has drawers that work and two have got doors. Having lived with next to nothing for over a year this is one helluva result. No sink or oven but there is hope. Expensive hope. This is the third kitchen that I've paid for (well, no money has exchanged hands as yet on this one) so I reckon it's one of the most expensive and smallest kitchens on the coast. No more rummaging around in a cardboard box to find rice or beans. No more traipsing off to the bedroom to find a plate or a saucepan. The heart of a home is the kitchen. This poor little flat has been heartbroken for a long time.
Absolutely no money left to buy a shiny kettle. That'll be my Christmas present to myself maybe.
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