Strangely not a sequel to a horror film.
48 hours after Dominic leaving and me making that God awful blog entry the arguments have officially begun.
The what about and why is irrelevant. The fact of the matter is that once again I am being true to form.
Why the Hell hasn't he decided to leave me yet?
December 03, 2008
November 30, 2008
When Your Best Just Isn't Good Enough
Ever felt you just aren't good enough?
This is exactly how I've been feeling lately. Then to make matters worse I've been being stereotypically female and saying I'm "fine".
Tonight it finally hit me just how inadequate I am. Dominic and I attempted to have sex. It seemed to be going great. It was playful and there seemed to be a feeling of desperation, as though we each wanted the other just as much.
Then we got to the actual sex part.
Cue the issue.
Dominic couldn't 'get it up'. I tried everything I know usually works when there are practical issues but tonight nothing worked.
Eventually it got to the point where it was stiff enough. Literally the second I climbed on top it went "bye bye". This made me feel like a special kind of useless. I mean, how bad must I be to make it go soft during the act?
Once we finished, by finished I mean gave up, things took yet another turn for the worse ... the feeling of uselessness took over and I actually started to cry.
Dominic being Dominic he tried to calm me down and even attempted to make light of it. I know he didn't, and doesn't, know how I was feeling but the comment "Was it really that bad?" didn't really help.
He also asked why I was crying. To which my response was even worse than "I'm fine"; I actually said "I don't know".
What I really don't know is what I thought lying to him would achieve. On some level I guess I thought I was protecting him but I really should have learnt by now that this is not the way to go. So instead of explaining to him how I'm feeling I'm sat at my computer telling the internet how I'm feeling. This is leading to my feeling of inadequacy getting worse and worse and the phrase "he deserves better" has actually gone through my mind.
So now I have no idea what to do and generally feel like shit. Hopefully he'll understand that I don't understand and my scarily obvious inability to communicate won't lead to a fight and, potentially, worse.
This is exactly how I've been feeling lately. Then to make matters worse I've been being stereotypically female and saying I'm "fine".
Tonight it finally hit me just how inadequate I am. Dominic and I attempted to have sex. It seemed to be going great. It was playful and there seemed to be a feeling of desperation, as though we each wanted the other just as much.
Then we got to the actual sex part.
Cue the issue.
Dominic couldn't 'get it up'. I tried everything I know usually works when there are practical issues but tonight nothing worked.
Eventually it got to the point where it was stiff enough. Literally the second I climbed on top it went "bye bye". This made me feel like a special kind of useless. I mean, how bad must I be to make it go soft during the act?
Once we finished, by finished I mean gave up, things took yet another turn for the worse ... the feeling of uselessness took over and I actually started to cry.
Dominic being Dominic he tried to calm me down and even attempted to make light of it. I know he didn't, and doesn't, know how I was feeling but the comment "Was it really that bad?" didn't really help.
He also asked why I was crying. To which my response was even worse than "I'm fine"; I actually said "I don't know".
What I really don't know is what I thought lying to him would achieve. On some level I guess I thought I was protecting him but I really should have learnt by now that this is not the way to go. So instead of explaining to him how I'm feeling I'm sat at my computer telling the internet how I'm feeling. This is leading to my feeling of inadequacy getting worse and worse and the phrase "he deserves better" has actually gone through my mind.
So now I have no idea what to do and generally feel like shit. Hopefully he'll understand that I don't understand and my scarily obvious inability to communicate won't lead to a fight and, potentially, worse.
October 27, 2008
I Finally Realised
Dominic came here for the weekend. Not really big news is it?
The thing is, we had, once again been fighting. This is something we do a lot of these days. More often than not it is my fault. I know this, but still feel the need to lash out at him.
I know why I do this. It became frighteningly clear this afternoon.
I am not good at being alone.
This wasn't always the case. There have been times where I was amazingly good at being by myself and was no good with people. But with Dominic it is the exact opposite. Allow me to explain.
Even when we first started talking I'd look forward to seeing him sign in to msn; I realise that this is sad and pathetic but it's true. He was, from the very beginning someone I could talk to about anything and he didn't think I was mental, or if he did never said anything about it.
He quickly became my best friend. I could tell him things I didn't tell anyone else and he was always supportive. Not to mention the fact that he always knew exactly what to say and when to say it.
Once we got together properly things changed. He went from being my best friend to someone who I never wanted to be apart from.
In the beginning when he'd stay with me overnight I'd stay awake watching him while he slept; just to make the most of the few hours he'd be around.
Once we became serious and moved in together things changed again. That's when the fighting started. I think it's because we had no escape from eachother. As much as I wanted to be around him I needed to have somewhere I could go to be by myself. Neither of us had this.
Then came uni. The thing we both knew was coming. That wonderful move to Birmingham that put 200 miles between us.
Cue more fighting.
It has been almost constant since we've been apart. The reason being: my paranoia.
I convince myself that hes up to something he shouldn't be. This often leads to fights where one of us threatens to leave.
However, while he was here over the weekend things were pretty much perfect.
We were close and cuddly and didn't leave eachother for more than 5 minutes at a time.
Then when he left on Sunday night I felt amazingly empty. Almost as though a large chunk of me had just been ripped out.
I couldn't sleep last night. I haven't wanted to eat and it all comes down to the fact that I miss him as soon as he leaves. It feels like Ive been abandoned.
It would be all to easy to compare me to one of those stray dogs you see on Dog's Trust and RSPCA adverts. My default state is depressed, I cry for no apparent reason and I feel generally sick all of the time.
So now I'm spending my week waiting for the next time I get to see him. That being halloween. We're going out, which means fancy dress. Which should be fun ... once we get back to his room anyway.
The thing is, we had, once again been fighting. This is something we do a lot of these days. More often than not it is my fault. I know this, but still feel the need to lash out at him.
I know why I do this. It became frighteningly clear this afternoon.
I am not good at being alone.
This wasn't always the case. There have been times where I was amazingly good at being by myself and was no good with people. But with Dominic it is the exact opposite. Allow me to explain.
Even when we first started talking I'd look forward to seeing him sign in to msn; I realise that this is sad and pathetic but it's true. He was, from the very beginning someone I could talk to about anything and he didn't think I was mental, or if he did never said anything about it.
He quickly became my best friend. I could tell him things I didn't tell anyone else and he was always supportive. Not to mention the fact that he always knew exactly what to say and when to say it.
Once we got together properly things changed. He went from being my best friend to someone who I never wanted to be apart from.
In the beginning when he'd stay with me overnight I'd stay awake watching him while he slept; just to make the most of the few hours he'd be around.
Once we became serious and moved in together things changed again. That's when the fighting started. I think it's because we had no escape from eachother. As much as I wanted to be around him I needed to have somewhere I could go to be by myself. Neither of us had this.
Then came uni. The thing we both knew was coming. That wonderful move to Birmingham that put 200 miles between us.
Cue more fighting.
It has been almost constant since we've been apart. The reason being: my paranoia.
I convince myself that hes up to something he shouldn't be. This often leads to fights where one of us threatens to leave.
However, while he was here over the weekend things were pretty much perfect.
We were close and cuddly and didn't leave eachother for more than 5 minutes at a time.
Then when he left on Sunday night I felt amazingly empty. Almost as though a large chunk of me had just been ripped out.
I couldn't sleep last night. I haven't wanted to eat and it all comes down to the fact that I miss him as soon as he leaves. It feels like Ive been abandoned.
It would be all to easy to compare me to one of those stray dogs you see on Dog's Trust and RSPCA adverts. My default state is depressed, I cry for no apparent reason and I feel generally sick all of the time.
So now I'm spending my week waiting for the next time I get to see him. That being halloween. We're going out, which means fancy dress. Which should be fun ... once we get back to his room anyway.
October 22, 2008
Aholisms Are Taking Over My Life
Over the last few days I have looked into many aholisms and am starting to realise that I have an aholism all of my very own.
Workaholism.
I came to this conclusion at 3am this morning when I found myself still sat at my desk pouring over book after book on addiction, presentation skills, research methodology and semiotics.
As a result of this new found workaholism I have lost all hope of having a normal sleep pattern and my eating habits are all over the place too. Basically, if it can't be done in 10 minutes or less I'm not interested in it.
Workaholism.
I came to this conclusion at 3am this morning when I found myself still sat at my desk pouring over book after book on addiction, presentation skills, research methodology and semiotics.
As a result of this new found workaholism I have lost all hope of having a normal sleep pattern and my eating habits are all over the place too. Basically, if it can't be done in 10 minutes or less I'm not interested in it.
October 19, 2008
I Am Becoming An Academic Recluse
Yesterday was Saturday.
Saturday, last time I checked, was the weekend. So I'm not completely sure why I spent practically my whole saturday sat at my desk writing essays, reports and making a list of deadlines I have to meet and a rough plan of how to go about meeting them.
Sitting at my desk all day basically meant that I had no access to the outside world. That said I had very little access to the inside world either. If it wasn't happening in my room or in the toilet the chances are I know nothing about it.
So in the many many hours I spent typing yesterday I managed to achieve a grand total of around 3000 words. And those were spread over two essays so, in short, I achieved very little.
I'm beginning to think that I overwork and so have trouble working efficiently. Therefore I am taking today, Sunday, off from uni work and, instead, am going to spend the day watching movies and a bit of TV. I may even do a bit of reading for fun. Practically anything but actual uni work.
So uni work will recommence tomorrow, Monday, otherwise known as the beginning of the work week.
Saturday, last time I checked, was the weekend. So I'm not completely sure why I spent practically my whole saturday sat at my desk writing essays, reports and making a list of deadlines I have to meet and a rough plan of how to go about meeting them.
Sitting at my desk all day basically meant that I had no access to the outside world. That said I had very little access to the inside world either. If it wasn't happening in my room or in the toilet the chances are I know nothing about it.
So in the many many hours I spent typing yesterday I managed to achieve a grand total of around 3000 words. And those were spread over two essays so, in short, I achieved very little.
I'm beginning to think that I overwork and so have trouble working efficiently. Therefore I am taking today, Sunday, off from uni work and, instead, am going to spend the day watching movies and a bit of TV. I may even do a bit of reading for fun. Practically anything but actual uni work.
So uni work will recommence tomorrow, Monday, otherwise known as the beginning of the work week.
October 17, 2008
Counselling, Coffee and Police Cordons
Today's blog will be a little different.
For one main reason: I will not be writing it in one sitting.
As such I will timestamp each individual section.
So ...
09:11:
I turned up in uni a little before 9 so that I could call into Students First and find out where exactly my counselling session is. Seems simple enough doesn't it? Apparently not. When I got here I discovered that the wonderful people who work in Students First have changed their opening hours on a Friday from 9 - 4 to 9:30 - 4. Not a big deal in itself, but a really big issue when you have an appointment at 9:30 and have no idea of the location of said appointment.
So now I am sitting in the computer suite trying to pass a little time before the, practically guaranteed, mad rush from Students First to my appointment. I suspect that my lateness to my first appointment will not go down too well with my counsellor ... but all shall be revealed a little later today.
11:25:
Counselling was an experience, to say the least. I was only in there for 20 minutes but I really got the impression that this will help me.
Sue, the woman I had my initial session with today explained what will happen very clearly. Basically they will provide me with a space where I will be able to talk freely and express as much or as little emotion as I like. She also seemed to understand that I will have trouble explaining my feelings about things that have happened and she says that this is completely normal and that the counsellors will help me to work through this and make it as easy as possible for me to open up and finally start to get on with my life without certain things hanging over me like a great black cloud.
My actual counselling sessions start next Friday so every Friday at 9:00 for at least the next 10 weeks I will be sitting down with a guy called Richard and pouring my heart out in the hopes of fixing my head.
After my session I took advantage of the offer in today’s Guardian … free Starbucks coffee.
I enjoyed my coffee sitting in the park where I watched squirrels burying nuts and birds eating worms. Nothing overly exciting but seeing as the sun was shining and it wasn’t overly cold it was nice.
The only thing spoiling my coffee in the park was that the park over the road was taped off with “Police Line Do Not Cross” tape. No idea why this was but judging from the fact that there was an officer every 20 yards or so, news crews all over the place and more photographers than I could count I’m going to assume it was for something pretty serious. Once the posters go up advertising for witnesses for whatever it was I will give an update.
So now I am back in the computer suite writing an essay on semiology, or as I prefer to call it, pulling apart one of the Coca Cola Christmas adverts for the sake of analysing something vaguely interesting.
This essay is proving to have an unexpected side effect though. I am now unable to go more than a couple of minutes without either thinking, humming or actually singing
“Holidays are coming, holidays are coming.”
This would be fine were I not sitting in a room with hundreds of other people … who keep looking at me oddly.
17:10:
Well the police cordon was because a woman got raped in the park at 1 this morning.
My Applied Research Project lecture was basically highlighting things while the lecturer read it. Not exactly rocket science is it?
Now I just have to read 4 more books, finish the semiology essay, start all the other essays and prepare for a presentation I never even knew I had to do.
For one main reason: I will not be writing it in one sitting.
As such I will timestamp each individual section.
So ...
09:11:
I turned up in uni a little before 9 so that I could call into Students First and find out where exactly my counselling session is. Seems simple enough doesn't it? Apparently not. When I got here I discovered that the wonderful people who work in Students First have changed their opening hours on a Friday from 9 - 4 to 9:30 - 4. Not a big deal in itself, but a really big issue when you have an appointment at 9:30 and have no idea of the location of said appointment.
So now I am sitting in the computer suite trying to pass a little time before the, practically guaranteed, mad rush from Students First to my appointment. I suspect that my lateness to my first appointment will not go down too well with my counsellor ... but all shall be revealed a little later today.
11:25:
Counselling was an experience, to say the least. I was only in there for 20 minutes but I really got the impression that this will help me.
Sue, the woman I had my initial session with today explained what will happen very clearly. Basically they will provide me with a space where I will be able to talk freely and express as much or as little emotion as I like. She also seemed to understand that I will have trouble explaining my feelings about things that have happened and she says that this is completely normal and that the counsellors will help me to work through this and make it as easy as possible for me to open up and finally start to get on with my life without certain things hanging over me like a great black cloud.
My actual counselling sessions start next Friday so every Friday at 9:00 for at least the next 10 weeks I will be sitting down with a guy called Richard and pouring my heart out in the hopes of fixing my head.
After my session I took advantage of the offer in today’s Guardian … free Starbucks coffee.
I enjoyed my coffee sitting in the park where I watched squirrels burying nuts and birds eating worms. Nothing overly exciting but seeing as the sun was shining and it wasn’t overly cold it was nice.
The only thing spoiling my coffee in the park was that the park over the road was taped off with “Police Line Do Not Cross” tape. No idea why this was but judging from the fact that there was an officer every 20 yards or so, news crews all over the place and more photographers than I could count I’m going to assume it was for something pretty serious. Once the posters go up advertising for witnesses for whatever it was I will give an update.
So now I am back in the computer suite writing an essay on semiology, or as I prefer to call it, pulling apart one of the Coca Cola Christmas adverts for the sake of analysing something vaguely interesting.
This essay is proving to have an unexpected side effect though. I am now unable to go more than a couple of minutes without either thinking, humming or actually singing
“Holidays are coming, holidays are coming.”
This would be fine were I not sitting in a room with hundreds of other people … who keep looking at me oddly.
17:10:
Well the police cordon was because a woman got raped in the park at 1 this morning.
My Applied Research Project lecture was basically highlighting things while the lecturer read it. Not exactly rocket science is it?
Now I just have to read 4 more books, finish the semiology essay, start all the other essays and prepare for a presentation I never even knew I had to do.
October 16, 2008
Man - Flu
A matter of weeks ago I would be the first to tell you that Man-Flu is a myth. A story made up by whiney males in order to avoid carrying on with normal life because they have a cold.
However, I am now ill with the so-called Man-Flu and it is horrible.
I have a throat that feels like I've been swallowing razor blades, a nose I can't breathe through and I feel amazingly weak.
I even managed to cough up some blood and get myself sent home from uni. Not something I was wanting to do.
Therefore, I am now of the opinion that Man-Flu is an actual illness, which has mutated and learnt how to jump to we female people, and that, if allowed to run free, could potentially wipe out the human race.
However, I am now ill with the so-called Man-Flu and it is horrible.
I have a throat that feels like I've been swallowing razor blades, a nose I can't breathe through and I feel amazingly weak.
I even managed to cough up some blood and get myself sent home from uni. Not something I was wanting to do.
Therefore, I am now of the opinion that Man-Flu is an actual illness, which has mutated and learnt how to jump to we female people, and that, if allowed to run free, could potentially wipe out the human race.
October 15, 2008
Cheese Microwaveys
I have made a discovery.
Well, I say discovery. It's more a creation born of necessity.
Either way I have made Cheese Microwaveys!!!
Cheese Microwaveys are basically Cheese Toasties. Why not just make a Cheese Toastie? Simply, because we do have neither a toastie maker or a grill. What we do have is a microwave and a psychotic toaster.
The Cheese Microwavey is the result of combining the toaster and the microwave. Allow me to explain how the Cheese Microwavey is made in 8 simple steps:
Well, I say discovery. It's more a creation born of necessity.
Either way I have made Cheese Microwaveys!!!
Cheese Microwaveys are basically Cheese Toasties. Why not just make a Cheese Toastie? Simply, because we do have neither a toastie maker or a grill. What we do have is a microwave and a psychotic toaster.
The Cheese Microwavey is the result of combining the toaster and the microwave. Allow me to explain how the Cheese Microwavey is made in 8 simple steps:
- Set toaster to toast only one side of the bread (use a grill if you have one)
- Toast 2 slices of bread
- Spread butter/margarine on the untoasted side of both
- Add cheese
- Make a sandwich with the toasted side on the outside
- Place in microwave on full power for 1 - 2 minutes
- Remove from microwave
- Eat
The Cheese Microwavey also works with variety of fillings.
Fillings tried so far:
- Cheese
- Cheese and Ham
- Cheese and Tomato
October 13, 2008
The Tesco Car Park
Today's blog, as mentioned yesterday will, mainly, be about my dreaded food shop.
So ... I got up at half 8. Which, I will have you know, is an ungodly hour when you haven't slept at all the night before and you're just starting to think nice sleepy thoughts when your alarm clock decides that it is actually a mini Hitler and it wants you out of bed that very second.
So then the normal routine resumes. Shower, coffee (very important this morning) and then I planned my trip. I got my list, my purse, my bags, my Sat Nav. That's where things started to go wrong.
The Sat Nav was, for want of a better word, dead.
How exactly was I supposed to get to Tesco with a dead Sat Nav? Obviously I took this as a sign that I shouldn't go shopping and was just about to crawl back into bed when I realised that there is nothing in my house which could be classed as a viable food source.
So, I took my sat nav out to the car and plugged it in there. It was a bit like pretending I was Dr. Frankenstein. I had the dead body of something and I just added electricity and created life.
So, off I went. Well as soon as the ridiculous 473 point turn it takes to get out of my driveway was over.
Things were going fine until my Sat Nav, bless it, decided to throw another one of its little tantrums. So there I am on a 50mph road being told to bear right and turn left.
Does anyone know how you bear right and turn left? Answers on a postcard please.
Finally I get to Tesco.
For this next part it is necessary to remember that today is Monday and this all occurred at about 10:30am.
There is a queue at Tesco. Not for the checkouts as you might expect but for the car park. Yes I was sat in a queue to get into a car park that has the capacity of a small airport. There was a car park attendant running the same sort of system you get at over crowded night clubs. The well known one in one out system.
Now, the one in one out system works for places like pubs and clubs. I promise you it does not work for supermarket car parks. The reason for this is simple. In a pub there is always someone coming out. In a supermarket there isn't because practically everyone is wandering around deciding what they want, or queueing at the checkouts, or loading their car, or returning the trolley. As you may be gathering shopping can be a long, drawn out business.
The actual shop was fine though. Once I'd parked the car I was in and out in less than half an hour. That was mainly thanks to my list.
In my opinion lists should be compulsory for anyone planning on buying more than a loaf of bread and a pint of milk.
Then it was back in the car and to what you'd think would be a fairly simple drive home. No such luck. As it turned out there was also a queue to get out of the car park. This was for a slightly different reason. The same car park attendant who was allowing people in was stopping them on the way out to ask which zone and bay they'd parked in so that he could direct the people he was letting in.
I don't know about you but I don't tend to take the slightest bit of notice of which zone and bay I'm in. So I didn't know what to tell him and he seemed quite upset that I'd managed to ruin his system.
And then I got home, unloaded my car, unpacked my shopping, froze my meat and all was well.
I even made an appointment with the University to see a counsellor.
So ... I got up at half 8. Which, I will have you know, is an ungodly hour when you haven't slept at all the night before and you're just starting to think nice sleepy thoughts when your alarm clock decides that it is actually a mini Hitler and it wants you out of bed that very second.
So then the normal routine resumes. Shower, coffee (very important this morning) and then I planned my trip. I got my list, my purse, my bags, my Sat Nav. That's where things started to go wrong.
The Sat Nav was, for want of a better word, dead.
How exactly was I supposed to get to Tesco with a dead Sat Nav? Obviously I took this as a sign that I shouldn't go shopping and was just about to crawl back into bed when I realised that there is nothing in my house which could be classed as a viable food source.
So, I took my sat nav out to the car and plugged it in there. It was a bit like pretending I was Dr. Frankenstein. I had the dead body of something and I just added electricity and created life.
So, off I went. Well as soon as the ridiculous 473 point turn it takes to get out of my driveway was over.
Things were going fine until my Sat Nav, bless it, decided to throw another one of its little tantrums. So there I am on a 50mph road being told to bear right and turn left.
Does anyone know how you bear right and turn left? Answers on a postcard please.
Finally I get to Tesco.
For this next part it is necessary to remember that today is Monday and this all occurred at about 10:30am.
There is a queue at Tesco. Not for the checkouts as you might expect but for the car park. Yes I was sat in a queue to get into a car park that has the capacity of a small airport. There was a car park attendant running the same sort of system you get at over crowded night clubs. The well known one in one out system.
Now, the one in one out system works for places like pubs and clubs. I promise you it does not work for supermarket car parks. The reason for this is simple. In a pub there is always someone coming out. In a supermarket there isn't because practically everyone is wandering around deciding what they want, or queueing at the checkouts, or loading their car, or returning the trolley. As you may be gathering shopping can be a long, drawn out business.
The actual shop was fine though. Once I'd parked the car I was in and out in less than half an hour. That was mainly thanks to my list.
In my opinion lists should be compulsory for anyone planning on buying more than a loaf of bread and a pint of milk.
Then it was back in the car and to what you'd think would be a fairly simple drive home. No such luck. As it turned out there was also a queue to get out of the car park. This was for a slightly different reason. The same car park attendant who was allowing people in was stopping them on the way out to ask which zone and bay they'd parked in so that he could direct the people he was letting in.
I don't know about you but I don't tend to take the slightest bit of notice of which zone and bay I'm in. So I didn't know what to tell him and he seemed quite upset that I'd managed to ruin his system.
And then I got home, unloaded my car, unpacked my shopping, froze my meat and all was well.
I even made an appointment with the University to see a counsellor.
October 12, 2008
Ikea Day
Today I went to Ikea.
Not the greatest start to a blog, I know. But this was not a shopping trip to Ikea. This was willingly submitting to being tortured by Ikea.
Why would anyone do such a thing?
The answer, my friends, is simple. Today was Ikea's assessment day. 4 hours of it to be exact. This basically means that from 1:45 this afternoon my day went like this:
13:45: Half hour lecture on the ethics of Ikea
14:15: Hour long interview
15:15: Group assessment
16:15: Essay writing
17:15: Half hour debriefing and being told that in 2 - 3 weeks I'll know if I get a second interview or not.
I know that doesn't look to exciting and my hand hurts like nobody's business but it wasn't all bad.
The group assessment was even kind of fun ... well parts of it.
Then once I got home I made my dinner, sat down to eat it and fell asleep while eating ... it would seem that Ikea took more out of me than I first suspected.
Well that was it for my exciting day at Ikea.
Tomorrow the outcome of a Tesco trip ...
Not the greatest start to a blog, I know. But this was not a shopping trip to Ikea. This was willingly submitting to being tortured by Ikea.
Why would anyone do such a thing?
The answer, my friends, is simple. Today was Ikea's assessment day. 4 hours of it to be exact. This basically means that from 1:45 this afternoon my day went like this:
13:45: Half hour lecture on the ethics of Ikea
14:15: Hour long interview
15:15: Group assessment
16:15: Essay writing
17:15: Half hour debriefing and being told that in 2 - 3 weeks I'll know if I get a second interview or not.
I know that doesn't look to exciting and my hand hurts like nobody's business but it wasn't all bad.
The group assessment was even kind of fun ... well parts of it.
Then once I got home I made my dinner, sat down to eat it and fell asleep while eating ... it would seem that Ikea took more out of me than I first suspected.
Well that was it for my exciting day at Ikea.
Tomorrow the outcome of a Tesco trip ...
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