Now the rest of my life can begin…

[almostwitty]

because the increasingly accurately-named shove_this_job has finally gotten permission from the glorious British government to move over and live with me in my West London palace for a very very long time.

After all the stressing of getting documents together for proof and all that, it did seem like a relatively easy process. Just the nail-biting wait – and we paid an extra $100 for an expediter to get an express service too.

Still, now I have three or so weeks to turn my bachelor West London pad into a place permanently fit for a Queen. so that means out with the old rotting food and the decade-old mattress, and in with a new one. Although she likes it soft and I like it hard (fnarr fnarr) so I guess this means we’ll have to compromise!

What else do I need, besides lots of new coathangers and Lush soaps?

Mirrored from almost witty.

Comments

[almostwitty]

During her last visit, she bought a boxload of Lush soaps for me as my birthday present. And has cunningly secreted them in various alcoves around the flat so every time I open up a cupboard door, some noxious smell of flavoured soap comes wafting up.

But I think I'm getting used to it.