Now, even the Universe is against my embracing my femininity (and basic hygiene).
I bought the pot of wax yesterday - cost me £9.
Guess who was smart and misplaced the entire bag - the wax, along with my London map book and a few miscellaneous items I can't recall now while shopping for much needed lingerie in Debenhams in Wimbledon?
Yes, Yeti i.e. moi.
Argh, I'll go to Debenhams and pray they have a lost-and-found. And pray even more fervently that someone had mercy on the tatty "I used to be a plastic bottle" turquoise bag owner and gave it in.
So, hairy Yeti is still in residence. Am too cheap to buy another pot tomorrow.
Can epilate. Ha bloody ha. Or shave. Yuck.
Oh, and yeah.
This dropped in my inbox at 3:20pm today (thankfully, I've been out all day at a course and just checked my email four hours ago).
Somebody obviously isn't concentrating on work and, instead, is focussed on adding me back to his trophy conquest collection. Which means there are others being added, or to be added in the future, ad infinitum.
You've witnessed it before, so don't get suckered back so easily, Sukaina.
He obviously can't be arsed enough to send me an email or a FB message. And thinks it's okay to do this after randomly accusing me of the prank calling imbecility. And getting his girlfriend to hound me.
And not replying to my previous email on 3rd December.
HMPH. Emotional fuckwit.
See, I told you he likes the (negative) attention. Such an annoying male reflection of myself. Working through Shadow. It's getting annoying now. I'll bet he was a twin or a regular brother in previous lives. Utterly annoying, placid and ball-less and spineless male.
Grow up, man-boy. Pick up your balls and grow a spine and frigging communicate through FB message or email.
TWAT. Meh... ignore.
I know I should have taken off the Add as friend button from my public profile, when I made my profile all private again last night.
Pffftt.
(I love how I feel nothing for him now - well, apart from the very apt derison, disbelief and blah-ness for him acting like such a twat.
Yesterday, I was at Centre Court shopping centre, sitting in exactly the same place on the stairs outside Tesco where I sat on 31st October when we had the texting war - and then I lost my phone :p. And the grief and pain and confusion I was in was tormenting me and beating me up and I just couldn't concentrate on working.
And yesterday? I was out of love/lust/obsession/need for him. I was loving myself a little more. I felt nothing for Imran. I was free to check out the cute desi cashier at the check-out. And it is a huge relief!)
I bought the pot of wax yesterday - cost me £9.
Guess who was smart and misplaced the entire bag - the wax, along with my London map book and a few miscellaneous items I can't recall now while shopping for much needed lingerie in Debenhams in Wimbledon?
Yes, Yeti i.e. moi.
Argh, I'll go to Debenhams and pray they have a lost-and-found. And pray even more fervently that someone had mercy on the tatty "I used to be a plastic bottle" turquoise bag owner and gave it in.
So, hairy Yeti is still in residence. Am too cheap to buy another pot tomorrow.
Can epilate. Ha bloody ha. Or shave. Yuck.
Oh, and yeah.
This dropped in my inbox at 3:20pm today (thankfully, I've been out all day at a course and just checked my email four hours ago).
Hi Sukaina, Imran Lakha wants to be friends with you on Facebook. Thanks, The Facebook Team |
Somebody obviously isn't concentrating on work and, instead, is focussed on adding me back to his trophy conquest collection. Which means there are others being added, or to be added in the future, ad infinitum.
You've witnessed it before, so don't get suckered back so easily, Sukaina.
He obviously can't be arsed enough to send me an email or a FB message. And thinks it's okay to do this after randomly accusing me of the prank calling imbecility. And getting his girlfriend to hound me.
And not replying to my previous email on 3rd December.
HMPH. Emotional fuckwit.
See, I told you he likes the (negative) attention. Such an annoying male reflection of myself. Working through Shadow. It's getting annoying now. I'll bet he was a twin or a regular brother in previous lives. Utterly annoying, placid and ball-less and spineless male.
Grow up, man-boy. Pick up your balls and grow a spine and frigging communicate through FB message or email.
TWAT. Meh... ignore.
I know I should have taken off the Add as friend button from my public profile, when I made my profile all private again last night.
Pffftt.
(I love how I feel nothing for him now - well, apart from the very apt derison, disbelief and blah-ness for him acting like such a twat.
Yesterday, I was at Centre Court shopping centre, sitting in exactly the same place on the stairs outside Tesco where I sat on 31st October when we had the texting war - and then I lost my phone :p. And the grief and pain and confusion I was in was tormenting me and beating me up and I just couldn't concentrate on working.
And yesterday? I was out of love/lust/obsession/need for him. I was loving myself a little more. I felt nothing for Imran. I was free to check out the cute desi cashier at the check-out. And it is a huge relief!)
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