Another weekend over. I get two days a fortnight with the boyfriend. Sometimes two weeks in a row when I'm lucky [generally when someone has other plans meaning it would be a long 3 weeks apart otherwise] The two days are the fastest days ever. I sit about in the week, with nothing to do and nothing to watch [until tomorrow night... brand new America's Next Top Model, woop woop!] and then he comes for the weekend and time couldn't possibly go any faster.
The hormones certainly seem to be on their way. I've managed to keep them under control as much as possible this weekend to be the good girlfriend opposed to the psycho one that he can't wait to get away from. Not too needy or crazy I like to think. A slight hiccup this afternoon, but on the whole I like to think I've been on my best behaviour. Entering the week of mood swings though. I am fearful. Having mild symptoms on the run-up to the hormone surge, I dread to think what this week shall bring. Depression? Devastation? Hopelessness? I cannot wait! Perhaps if I keep up the exercise [I hear that exercise releases a chemical to make you happier?] and keep busy on the website [I now know how to make it a real website. Online and everything] I will have enough distractions and positive aspects to my life to get me through the week.
This weekend, love was certainly in the air in my house. The dog had a visit. From his girlfriend. Now, girlfriend was the word father used to describe her. I certainly wouldn't use this term. The 'girlfriend' is in season. So, as any good owner would do, the girlfriend came round for a night of passion with Gizmo. Personally, I didn't think this would work. Not the friendliest dog in the park; while Corrie is off barking at every dog she sees to make her superior presence known, Gizmo likes to stand back and wait for them to walk by. Hes more a fan of human company, choosing to run people down by charging in to their legs hoping for love and recognition. He proved me wrong though, never have I seen a dog so excited. Panting. Tail wagging. Gizmo had the look of love in his eye. Unfortunately, the girlfriend was terrified. Not wanting Gizmo anywhere near her. Then came some barking. Ooooh, had he got her? Had he successfully wooed her? No! She was running around the kitchen desperate to get away from him and hoping someone would free her from this hell. Essentially, this was attempted rape. But when it comes to dogs, people turn a blind eye and call it 'breeding'. Probably didn't help that they had people in the room with them? But having been left alone, it turned out that it just wasn't meant to be. Ruby [who, if I'm honest, was an UGLY dog, was way below Gizmo's league and should not be bringing puppies in to this world] did not want any of Gizmo. So home she went, leaving Gizmo's ego [and heart] shattered. Like a love sick puppy he refused to eat his food, instead sniffing the floor where she had once been. The floor has since been mopped to eradicate the smell of her, and Gizmo seems to have returned to his retarded self.
In other news... my red nailvarnish chipped after a day! I bluddy well hate the stuff. I love my nails painted, but only when its fresh and tify. I have been gnawing them a lot recently so need to keep them covered, but there is nothing so annoying as chipped nailvarnish. It just looks scruffy. And I am no scruff!
Favourite song lyric of the day_ Now everything is cool as long as I'm getting thinner
Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ 0 [but watch this space]
