But I'm not exactly employed either... Suffice it to say that if you need a bacon roll or a coronation chicken sandwich, I'm your gal. I'm your gal, in fact, at seven bleeping thirty in the morning. Who needs a bacon roll that early? Unintelligible Scots, that's who.
In other news, David is not happy about how he is being presented on my blog. Whenever he says something a bit controversial, he looks at me with narrowed eyes and says "Is this going on your blog?" My goal is to keep him in this paranoid state until he says nothing but nice and innocuous things, at which point I will reward him by taking him out in public. It is part of my insidious plan to ruin his life by taking away everything he holds dear (bacon rolls, smoking, video games on weeknights, extreme and unapologetic messiness, going to bed without flossing--you know, essential man freedoms and the like). I have been here for two weeks and so far I have failed miserably on all counts. But I endure!