Paper

Have you missed me?
Or is that too much pressure on the relationship at this point?
Anyway.
Iv'e been decorating my beautiful house on Hysteria Lane. To describe my activities more correctly, i've been scraping, filling, sanding, stripping many layers of wallpaper, clearing up whole planets of plaster dust, putting on at least three coats of everything (danish oil, undercoat, emulsion, gloss) and generally grafting like a labourer. I no longer need sandpaper as the surface of my very own hands will now suffice for removing old varnish/paintwork. I've been so unsexy; when i sat down on the toilet, plaster fell out of my pants.
However, i said i wouldn't moan about 'getting work done' because it's middle class and boring to do so. I keep reminding myself that i am lucky, and a little surprised to be in this position. It is, after all, only eight years ago that i found myself unemployed, in a council house with neither dog nor man to protect me. But that's another story...
So yes, i have removed all the traces of the daily activity of the previous owner. All those scuff marks and kiddy scribbles have gone. Weird that isn't it? How we all make those tracks of our movements on our home. Like drawing the same thing over and over again.
There's lots of other stuff to catch up on (a backblog in fact). But i don't know if i've lost it for now so lets leave it at that.