It's only mid point through the week and I realise that I am badly in need of a cleaner or an extremely hyperactive wax on wax off hubby. Over the last few days I've realised I have clocked up a fair amount of time doing mundane domestic stuff when I could be busy deconstructing the latest Eastern European porn releases. My cleaner criteria is to ultimately have someone who is reasonably priced (I'm thinking Filipino maid without green card rate here) and trustworthy (when I come home from a hard days work I expect to see my place spotless smelling like a classy Zone 1 whorehouse with none of my Bel Ami DVD's missing).
Those dreaded conversations about plans during the festive season have already seeped into the latest work conversations and waltzing unceremoniously into my personal domain. This has resulted from David Cameron’s impersonation of Rory Bremner doing Tony Blair (AKA the Tory party leadership contest) and lack of gossip due to my friends inabilities at having good ol’ fashioned illicit affairs.
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