Lucky bastard! I wish I had a furry coat and could curl up into a ball and hibernate. I wonder if the whole thing about pining after exes just evolved as a biological desire to use someone else's body for warmth.
Our house is fucking freezing. I sleep with all my clothes and my hoody on and I'm still cold. One of the first nights we stayed there I made the mistake of getting into pajamas and I was so cold that in my dreams I was really hot. I got into work the next day feeling like a delerious arctic traveller and then proceeded to freak out about several things like lack of money, inability to look after myself and that hollow feeling like something has been taken away from you and you want it back. I'm not sure what.
But it's kind of romantic isn't it? Sunday at three in the afternoon I staggered downstairs with a big ass hangover to find our boiler not working yet again and my housemate curled up on the sofa in the dark all her clothes and a duvet. I joined her under the duvet and we huddled together for warmth and watched 'Elf' and ate frozen veggie burgers. I just keep telling myself no matter how cold I get and how little sleep I have and how crazy I'm feeling that this isn't shit, it's romantic. Just like when you're trying to get over someone and you tell yourself, this is just a socialogical concept that I'm feeling now, an approach which might work if you were a fucking robot. Freezing away in Peckham and completely skint. This is the stuff middle class writers dream of the world over. I should be slathering at my own fate like an over-privileged wanker, but I'm actually seething with jealousy at the cute little mousey thing above.
Got MIA in my head, 'Lucky I like feeling shit, my stamina can take it'...except in my case I want to be like I was at 16, when I drank shot after shot of 50p vodka that was little better for you than ethanol, swanned into school about an hour late the next day and still felt fine, mentally and physically. Well, I mean I was insane and angsty actually, but a lot less tired. Then in the evening I'd do it all again and I never really felt the affects. I never cared about the cold, I loved the dark, I mean I still love it sometimes, but winter just sends me wanting to run off somewhere hot and chase the sun. Maybe it's better if you've got someone's body (or several people's bodies if you're very lucky!) next to you. Well, fuck it, I got my hoody and my hot water bottle, and whiskey (before me and my friends drank it all) what else do I need?
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