Krusty comes to Rossmore Avenue

I spent the other evening turning Lara's stramineous tresses into dreadlocks. This was a complicated procedure involving a purple comb, hairspray in an orange bottle, vast quantities of Tennant's (I generally try to drink the beer of the country, but this came in large cans and was on special, so we made an exception), rubber bands, Shameless, and The Sex Inspectors. Several hours later Lara was looking rather like Krusty the Clown (without the bald patches).

While I was hunting down more possible jobs (I'm going to be so glad when this is over - I never want to see my cv again), I noticed to my consternation that the technical writer one appears to be open until 31st March(!). No wonder I haven't heard anything else about it.

I've just come from washing the rubbish bin (with steel wool and Cif) and mopping the floor for the second time. Having just watched Vera Drake, although I have no desire to "help young girls", and I have an extra eight inches on her, I'm starting to feel like I should be humming 40s songs. You Are My Sunshine, anyone? I really need a job!

We have someone coming round to look at the flat this evening. All I know about them is that they have an Irish phone number and use txt language. We're hoping for someone with at least seven of the following qualities: hot, tall, male, drinker, musician, Irish, rich.

I went to pay Luke-the-landlord yesterday, and decided to go up to Dunnes Stores to get some more vegetables. I was in there, doing so well: I had a basket full of reduced price veg (mangetout, Brussels sprouts, capsicum, asparagus and pears), when I realised that I only had £3 on me. The other £6 of my budget for the day was sitting on the dining room table. I had to put them all back, it was so sad. Still, better than the last time, which was £4 over the contents of my wallet, and I didn't realise until I came to pay; that was truly embarrassing. I still ended up 4p over, but the checkout woman was so sick of me at that stage she shooed me through anyway.

Well, the house is starting to sparkle, which means that, apart from my dishpan hands, I don't really have very much to write about.