After all this being dragged around Joburg's hot spots this weekend, I have stumbled into a wall of flu virii, and am now not only feeling emotionally fucked, but physically too.
It's like one of my nostrils has lost it's washer, and just runs and runs. Attractive.
This weekend I stopped drinking. Until Mozambique, I'm going on a detox. I answered about 250 "Where's Steve?" questions. I got dragged to a croquet party in the afternoon with two lovely friends, and we all made happy on the lawns. My friends have been fantastic. Third World Ant has a particularly ravishing account of the "Earl Grey & Croquet" day - so do take a look: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Yesterday I spring cleaned/sprung clean (?) the flat, put the rest of his stuff out of sight, and made the spare room into my own place, by putting all my little things in there. I cleaned the toilet.
I went to a fireworks display picnic thing yesterday and bumped into every single person I basically know there. God this town is small. Answered more "So, where's Steve?" questions, tried to smile, and went home early.
I. Cannot. Believe. It's. Monday.