Well, I seem to have a bit of a problem with my Christmas tree, in that… well, there aren’t any left. At least, if there are, I can’t seem to find them. It’s my own fault, because I was going to get one on Saturday and then again on Sunday, but life just got in the way. I’m going to have another try tomorrow, because I’m off to hang some pictures for Mum following the redecoration of her flat (that’s “apartment” for you foreigners) and then have a bite to eat with her. I’m not going to panic just yet, but the kids will string me up by the whatsits if I don’t manage to find one.
My cute lawyer (CL) called me today, and it seems that she had a similar view about our date to mine… phew! We’ve made arrangements to see each other again on Friday, and I’m really looking forward to it… there’s a kind of “normality” about it after the weirdo’s I seem to have hooked up with of late, so I’m really going to keep my fingers crossed. And not try to get inside her knickers (ahem) for at least another couple of dates :-)
As for BR, I must admit a bit of a frolic would be fun, but if I’m seeing someone else it’s absolutely out of the question (unfortunately). And I have a suspicion that the general consensus of opinion might be spot on, and that she wants a little more than a frolic. Naughty girl.
So, to what I want for Christmas, then. It’s not a lot to ask of Santa, I wouldn’t have thought… I mean, you’d get a bit of change from £200,000 if you were to actually buy it. I give you, then… the Aston Martin Vanquish.