It’s Christmas Eve, babe! Excuse my recent hiatus, but what better day to make my return. I’m down south and it’s unseasonably warm, isn’t it? I’d just love a bit of snow to complete the scene. Anyway, I arrived with a suitcase full of velvet, gasping for a glass of fizz (after the compulsory nightmare of train journey). The next few days will consist mostly of said velvet and said fizz. It is the law, after all. Must dash, Christmas drinks party to prepare for this evening. See you soon, Santa lad!

Today I worked from home. For the first time ever. It’s, like, my ideal situation. Only nagging problem was the fact that the boy happened to be off too. Turns out, he’s like a toddler when you’re trying to work from home. In the end, I set him a baking task to keep him occupied for a while, which resulted in me getting way involved anyway. First it was the argument about whether to use the electric whisk or not (I was saying yes, he was saying no – I won). Next, I gave him strict chocolate-melting-instructions and he was doing fine. That is until I heard him utter This chocolate isn’t runny enough, I’m going to add some hot water and BOOM. Just like that. Before I had time to jump up and say no. A spoonful of water and solid lump of chocolate later, the boy looked somewhat crestfallen. It’s one of those mistakes you’ll never make twice.

So, anyway, I’ve finished my day’s work and emailed it off to my editor (haaa, you don’t realise how absurd this sounds, but I just couldn’t resist) and we managed to salvage some of the dessert. And we’re having steak for dinner and an early night with books as we’ve both got to be up early. Et voila.

Right, I know I’m banging on about it, but I was home before 6pm today. Came in to a spotless flat (entirely thanks to the boy) which is heavenly in itself. I’ve put a wash on. I’m getting the dinner ready for when the boy comes home soon. Then I’ll watch some crap tv without feeling guilty (a first) while he potters about on his spaceship (computer). I must say, this work experience is working out quite well, even if it’s only because it’s giving me a glimpse into a life of free evenings which could give me the motivation I need to get out. I mean I’m only an amateur at the moment (ie. coming straight home and revelling in my guilt-free-freedom from the sofa) but if this keeps going, I might even find myself delving into the realms of after-work drinks and socialising. HAPPY HOUR. Watch this space.

Well hello. Firstly, apologies for missing the fads on Sunday. Think I’ve already mentioned it, but I landed myself a bit of work experience this week. You know, one of those Monday to Friday, nine to five thingies. So I spent Sunday swotting up and polishing my shoes (believe whichever of those you like). It’s only day two, but I must say I could get used to this being-home-every-evening lark. I’ve already had my dinner, got my pyjamas on, made a hot water a bottle and camped out in front of the telly, ready to watch the football. Bish/bash/bosh. I could also get used to this wearing-my-own-clothes lark! Can’t explain how refreshing it is to be able to choose a different outfit for each day. It’s making me look at my wardrobe completely differently. One day, my real life will be like this too.

I’m up, up and at ’em. Woke without my alarm for the first time in ages, which is a treat. Had myself an early night, counted some sheep, and it seems to have done the trick. However, there is some shade to this light (there’s no such thing as light without shade). I’ve sat down with a coffee and a cereal bar, all ready to put the news on, and I can’t get the tv to work. Honestly, there’s not a day goes by when I can’t work something, whether it’s the tv, the computer, the fan controllers (don’t ask me), the speakers, the internet or the bloody hoover (the other day, I couldn’t get the hoover plug to fit in the socket – the boy had to use pliers and all sorts). Things just fail at my touch and I haven’t got the logic to put them right (which is where the boy comes in, every day). Dare I wake him and say the dreaded: I can’t work the tv?

Just a quick one. I’m off down south. Not looking forward to traipsing through the driving rain to the station. But other than that I’m excited. I’ve been packing for-what-feels-like-ever. I’m only going for three days, like. Anyway, I’m finally ready and have sat down to blog. The boy has just taken a quick snap of me for that very purpose. As ever, my curtain of hair is blocking my face (get used to it). But more important than my face are the clothes. Shorts and jumper – American Apparel, Vintage Breton, Necklace – Topshop, Desert Boots – Clarks.

What an absolute scorcher! And there I was, worrying about finding a winter coat. (I’m still worrying about that, but it’s not such a priority, clearly). I’m more concerned right now about my lack of appropriate footwear for such temperatures. I might just stay where I am, sat by the back door, with the delicious smell of sunshine wafting in. If only I had a bit of sand on the balcony, I’d be out there! Or maybe I’ll actually venture out onto the street. We shall see.