to
adjust
themselves
in public.
On a wintery wonderlandish walk in the
*middle of nowhere* yesterday
all by myself, la de la, with my headphones on,
singing along to songs and pushing my face into the snow
I passed a man in jogging bottoms who appeared to be adjusting himself.
Whatever- it freaked the life out of me. I couldn't have started walking faster.
It would have been ok if I had not been in a place in the countryside where noone would have been able to hear me scream...
plus he was just *standing there*...and looked me in the eye with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...with his hand *there*...
Maybe he was touching himself!
Maybe he was adjusting himself!
God.
My hands became sweaty after that. I had to take my gloves off.
Late night last night sorting out all the bits and bobs I am not taking with me on my move to London.
Did I mention I was moving?
In a few months, if not sooner I am off to the big smoke. Have myself some swell times, get my pores blocked good and proper.
I am almost disgusted at how much *stuff* I have accumulated living here.
My cat is snoring.
I need a hug and a kiss. Soon, soon, soon.
Until that day...
I'll just keep bagging up my life and giving it away
and hoping my one lost glove will find another soon.
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