This Is Not A Test

In the early hours of this morning, when light was still on the other side of the world, ILB left on holiday. After one last kiss, he buggered off to visit 47 and his missus in Germany. And although I was a big supporter in getting him there (second only to 47 himself, who actually bought the tickets), I can’t help feeling a bit bummed out.

It’s a definite case of not knowing what to do with myself. I’m low on funds, so I can’t go for a shop in central London. I’m low on moral, which for me means that I’m having trouble even blogging this entry. And I’m low on energy, which stems from having a pretty intense week last week. The next few weeks will have their intense moments as well, seeing as I’m packing up my stuff again (temporarily moving in at Casa ILB to save money for a bigger place). Oh, and Christmas will happen at some point, I assume. Probably around the 24th-25th.

It’s like life is all happening right now. Come January, I will have been living here for six months. And with me moving again, it’s another new situation to get used to.

But for now, I wait. And I try to make stuff happen to take my mind off the fact that the love of my life is in Germany. I genuinely hope he’s having a whale of a time and comes back with lots of crazy stories.

And part of me… well, let’s just say a very specific part of me is hoping for some smashing welcome home sex. If the safe travels sex was anything to go by, it will be EPICMAZING.

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