My housemate, her friend and two gentleman are in the lounge drinking, smoking and listening to music. It's not this that has woken me up but the woman next door who seems to have re-postioned her TV.
Just because she's an insomniac doesn't mean I have to be one too.
Reaching over the to the phone I note that I am again woken up at the following times:
Alarm clock wakes me up even though it feels like I haven't actually been to sleep.
Packing my gym bag on the staircase landing when a naked gentleman appears at the top cupping himself.
I glance at him in the most nonchalant manner possible and cheerily say hullo. I am pleased that he is slightly good looking with a 7.8 out of ten body.
He has the look of someone who's standing naked on a staircase in a house which isn't their own. I carry on regardless.
He has beaten the guy Sally had round last week by a country mile.
At work and not doing much because of my latest Freemasons obsession. Which is this...
And the particular part of the Kelly Rowland Club Remix (10'37) that makes my heart skip a beat is the bit of the song from around 7'14.
This is where the tune moves from slow to fast again.
So what the Freemasons have done is squashed the mid on the EQ so that it sounds like the fast bit is coming from next door.
Then as they pull up the mid, so the bass line in E flat minor kicks in (B, A flat then E flat) and they syncopate some of the electronic whooshes the the whole effect is like the oracle of commercial house music.
Ohmygod it makes me wet. Seriously.
I want to be in a club one day when someone plays this and I think I will burst into glitter.
Still imagining myself in a club when the DJ drops Kelly Rowland. The bit at 3'41 is a best moment to pull your T-shirt off slowly.
These thoughts are putting me in a very good mood.
(The tune is on Spotify - the Club Mix - if you dare)
At home again and going to have a snooze. Thank god the house is empty and there are no naked men with good bodies running around.
I have no idea why I think it's good that this isn't happening...
In the gym and Chris says the program is going well but that I need to stop putting dressing on the spinach and chicken breast I have for lunch.
I tell him it's really difficult and already I'm chewing my way through four packs of gum and two litres of sparkling water a day.
He shows no mercy.
Chris has another tip. Apparently after a no-carb lunch, brushing your teeth fools your something-or-other into thinking that you've eaten properly.
Like enough of Philip Olivier now.
Can all the gays please turn their obsession to Luke Guldan. I know I have...
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger. Seriously.
Sally says her and ? never actually shagged even though they were lying in bed naked together and occasionally he was running to the bathroom without any clothes on. I, for one, believe her.
I've cooked, cleaned up, sorted, packed, planned, transferred and I think I am going to retire to the bed facility. But shit, I never sent to sniff the leather jacket I want to buy.
This day has been a failure.