Waffle cake creator and lover of all things purple

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West Sussex, United Kingdom

Friday, 19 March 2010

Second test drive....


I have been completely and utterly shattered this week so I’m sorry for the delay in updating.

I guess my main update today will need to cover the second “test drive” with mr wrestler dude. Now I am already aware that I make a rather splendid girlfriend, but unfortunately I tend to act like a wild horse during a “breaking” session on a date. In an attempt to swerve the awkward interview style dating procedure, I suggested that our second date should be at a pub quiz.

*checks phone to see if she has any relevant textual material to fill this section*

Ah yes, I remember now.

This gentleman seems rather insecure. This isn’t usually so much of an issue, except that this particular gentleman is also 6ft 5 and is an ex wrestler. I am starting to believe that these two parts of his personality might be at war. He tried to call me on Sunday. When I was unable to answer, he called again, straight after he hung up from the first call attempt. When it became clear that I was not available (for the second time in 2 minutes), he sent me a text to tell me that he had tried to call. All of these seems a little overly keen for my liking, like a dog that has forgotten what having a bone is all about. We arranged the date, and after a few messages from him asking if he could turn up to mine early and whether or not I was looking forward to seeing him (and replies from me basically trying to make it known that there is absolutely no rush needed in us getting to know each other), we settled on going to a pub quiz.

Now apart from the fact I love quizzes, the true, underhand, self serving reason for suggesting a pub quiz, was because it gives me a clear idea of how intelligent people are.

He met me from my flat (the location of which my mother still cant believe that I told him) and we started our walk to the pub. He presented me with a malteaser bunny which I once mentioned was one of my favourite chocolates, which I thought was sweet. (Unintentional bad pun there)

The quiz was interesting. It turns out that this chap is actually quite clever. The authenticity of this claim is unclear, but apparently he did an IQ test when he was 12 and was given a year’s free membership to mensa. Does this make me a bad person that I was quite turned on by that? (Not the 12 year’s old part, you filthy pervert!) I just love smart people. What I found tricky about the evening was the fact that every time the new chappy spoke to someone in the pub, he would come across as quite aggressive. I worried for the life of the quiz master at one point, when wrestler boy realised that our marks had been calculated incorrectly.

He walked me home again at the end of the night and we concluded things with a second date pash on the lips. I said I had to head off to bed as I was tired. In fact each time I said something rather subtle about wanting to go to sleep, he would mutter something that I guess is supposed to be seductive in some way. In the end, I had to physically break through a moment of passion by pushing him a side saying something along the lines of “you need to leave and go home now; I’m going in there, alone, to sleep”.

I have had a further few texts from this gentleman since. Some of them are very “do you like me *twist the back foot for effect*” though which is a bit teenage emo for my liking and is not a trait that I particularly fancy.

I am in a bit of a moral quandary as my head is telling me that he is going to be too much trouble, but the other half of me is going “did you not see that he is 6ft 5?!” “he has been a member of mensa don’t you know” I’m confused.

It’s late so I’m going to leave it there for now.

Tuesday, 16 March 2010

Here goes. A dose of hard hitting real

This will not be a particularly funny entry. In fact I am expecting it to be fairly self serving and pitying.

I don't expect you to trawl through my brain farts, but I would like to thank you in advance if you decide to stick with it. Any advice would be welcome.

I had promised myself that I would use this new blog as a way of improving my writing skills. I occasionally make myself giggle at some unusual ideas or thoughts that I have on every day subjects and I figured writing a blog would be a good way to try and express these. I hope with time, determination and a lot of constructive criticism from others, I can make it into something that makes other people smile too.

Today's blog is not going to be a light hearted look at the mundane. Today, I am struggling to remember how to be that usual smiley, outrageous person.

Some time ago, before I up sticks and moved my life to the south coast, I suffered with an incy wincey bit of depression. This word still creates a bitter taste in my mouth. There is a huge amount of stigma attached to being branded depressed, and even I hold my own prejudice about the condition. I am a very competitive person and I usually succeed at what ever I put my mind to. Reaching a stage in my life where I hated the fact that I was still alive in the morning and knowing that I had another day to live made me feel weak and pathetic.

Even now, 2 years on, I still struggle to deal with the fact that I wasn't strong enough to cope with the every day.

I did have a lot on my plate at the time which I'm sure added to the overwhelming inability to cope. My first real relationship was breaking down, my job and office politics had become completely unbearable, I had money worries and I was lacking something to work towards.

I would have tremours at night, I couldn't sleep, I felt increasingly paranoid and worthless, I had (and still do to some extent) a very unhealthy relationship with food. I would walk down the street and assume that anyone I heard giggling was making fun of me.

Remembering all these emotions and confusion is hard. I know that I don’t want to be that person again. I refused to take any sort of drug to battle this, but I did end up being referred for CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy) They help you identify what is triggering the shift in mood and work out how to rationalise and correct the way you feel about it. It was hard to face up to, but I worked very hard to ensure that I wasn’t beaten by my own self.

I applied for a new job which ended up being 7 hours away from Lancaster, I was successful and moved my whole life to the other end of the country where I didn’t know a single person. This set me a new challenge and a way to rebuild myself, and it still remains the best thing I have ever done.

The reason I am writing about this is because I have noticed a few of traits I fought against, creeping back.

I am at an increased level of stress at the moment. I am currently doing the workload of 3 people and not paid nearly enough for the privilege, I live in a studio flat which is smaller than your average size hamster cage, I'm approaching 30 and I feel like I am decades behind my peers who are married, have a house, children and careers.

I worry that I am using twitter as a form of escapism to draw focus away from the issues that I need to face. I have noticed that I crave to be accepted by people in online communities, rather than being excited by how accepted I am in my real life world. I have noticed that if someone is pissed off at something, I instantly assume that I am the root cause, even if that person doesn’t even really know me.

These things worry me. Don't get me wrong, the people I have met / speak to via twitter or forums are awesome and I love the fact that we share similar passions which my friends here don't completely understand. I just don’t want to fall into the trap of forgetting how reality works.

I'm just feeling a bit scared that I will forget how to cope again.

Hopefully strong independent women status will resume shortly.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iWaffle

Sunday, 14 March 2010

Mothering Sunday

Today is mother’s day. The day where hallmark count their card driven share increase, Sunday school children cut up egg boxes painted yellow, stick them on a bit of card to pretend it’s a daffodil filled with eternal love and where the poor women that have squeezed a rather big thing, out of a much smaller thing, get to put their feet up.

I had remembered that this particular day was looming last week. I even managed to contribute to hallmark’s grossing revenue. Unfortunately, I promptly forgot about it soon afterwards and the card is still in my flat somewhere in one of those pink and white stripy bags that absolutely all greeting cards tend to be wrapped in after purchase.

My mother and I fell out last week because I had forgotten to send my Grandmother a birthday card. Apparently I will regret it when they are dead as I will wish I had been a lot less self centred and cared more about them. I hadn’t realised that folded pieces of card with someone else’s awful rhyming prose embossed on the front was the measure of how much someone cares, but apparently this is a well documented fact that I have somehow managed to overlook.

I was aware that after having this delightful telephone conversation with my mother, which I believe ended in her rather maturely putting the phone down on me, the fact that I had forgotten to post her card, was not going to go unnoticed.

My family are very religious and in wave of extreme cunning, I decided to wrap up the news that I went to church this morning in a little verbal bow, and gift it to my mother, over the telephone. I had hoped that news that I hadn’t been struck by ethereal lightning on entry to the church would disguise the fact that I hadn’t posted her card yet. This did actually work for about 5 minutes, until I accidentally let it slip that the reason I visited the house of God this morning was because my friend was having her marriage bans read. For those that are wondering if this is some sort of wedding protest poetry session, marriage bans are where the vicar of a church reads out the names of people due to be married and gives the congregation time to pipe up if they know why these marriages should not take place from a “legal” or “just cause” perspective.

Now I will point out, at this stage, that I am a Christian. This will probably surprise some of you as I’m not exactly text book. I certainly do not subscribe to the ludicrous Intelligent Design theory and there is a lot about organised religion that I do not agree with, but I do believe in God. The reason I wanted to clarify that I do believe in God and have Christian beliefs is because the next part of my blog may come across as a bit insulting.

I did not really get along with this flavour of church. Everyone is over 65, most of the women there look as if they would eat the face of a small child if they were given the opportunity, and it all seemed slightly pretentious.

The sermon started off talking about people’s shoes being an expression of who you are. He then followed this up with about 10 minutes of the inner workings of the trinny and suzanna show. This leapt, seams fully on show, into how parenthood is like clothing as it is an expression of what is within you. He did a call back to the shoes saying that we can’t see God’s shoes, but we can see his footprints in our lives. Even now I can’t work out for the life of me, how this disjointed rambling linked to either of the readings.

It was a communion service, and with any high Anglican church there was a little vicar dance at the front with the wafers and the cup, which I think would actually work very well on youtube, if it was speeded up and put to techno music. I am confirmed which means I’m entitled to partake in the cleansing of the body and soul through communion. Again, I have no objection to this, I think symbolism of what you believe in is important; however I got the most dirty look of the lady with the wine cup when I went to hold it for myself to take a swig. I spoke to my friend afterwards, as she as confirmed in this church, and apparently the etiquette is to just lightly touch the bottom of the chalice in order to tip it daintily into your face hole. I had obviously caused some hideous faux pas where I mistakenly thought I was a grown up enough to hold my own drinks. Looks like I’m back to the two handled plastic beakers and spill resistant lids then…

There was a moment at the very start of the service which nearly had me in tears. The vicar talked about some cake that would be available to after the service. After there was little response to this very exciting news, he requested that the microphone was turned up and he repeated his nugget of Sunday morning cake joy notice again. There was a ripple of muffled “woooooo’s” from the ladies in front which I thought was rather nice and good spirited. However, one old, gnarled looking hag had obviously decided that these ladies were having far too much fun in a religious environment, so turned round to the ladies and spat “they did that last year you know”. She would definitely have chewed on your child’s face if she had the chance. Miserable cow.

Anyway, that is my Sunday morning.

How has yours been?

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Post date waffle

He wasn't an axe wielding murderer, or at least he wasn't this afternoon, and I still live to tell the tale.

Safe to say my worries were completely unwarranted and rather unfair. He seems perfectly capable of holding a conversation which holds my attention and he seems reasonably interesting. I think he suffers from being stuck in a rut at work and he is currently lacking in a way to express himself since giving up wrestling, but I think he might have potential.

As a question to people who have tried this dating thing before, was I out of order to plan to meet other people this evening? He seemed a little pit out that I had to leave. I'm hoping this was just because he was enjoying my witty conversation rather than the fact he was hoping to score.

He walked me home and we had a rather long pash outside my flat. Someone who lives in my flat came out for a fag and saw us having a bit of a kiss. This didn't really bother me until the chappy said he thought that was his work colleague standing in the doorway. That was a bit uncomfortable and embarrasing!

He wants to meet up again and I think I will give him another test drive. I find it very hard to let down my defences so I guess we'll just have to see how persistant he is to break through my wall of crazy. I just hope he doesn't attempt to do that with an axe on a date further down the line.

I got a missed call from my mother while I was out "just calling as I haven't heard from you in a while and hoping you haven't been chopped up into little bits somewhere" I thought she was being rather optimistic expecting a reply if I had been. I called her up and explained that I had been on a date. We talked a little about it, as my mother is aware of the difficulty I have with these situations, and I explained that it went rather well. When I told her that we had a bit of a kiss outside my flat, she shrieked "you took him back to your flat?!". "outside it" I calmy tried to explain. "well, I hope he isn't a crazy stalker then" she replied.

Thanks mum. Unsurprisingly, I also hope that he isn't a sanity challenged personal obsessive too.

Parents eh, always have the best advice.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iWaffle

Pre date nerves and craziness

It appears that I have reached the big time. I have an actual living human being who reads by blog. *Waves* Hello! This post is dedicated to you and all you care for.

I was requested to update my dating progress via the medium of public writing, and with no thought for the fact that it wouldn’t be too hard for the individuals concerned to locate my waffle and with an over eagerness to please my fan (hello again), I have decided to write a pre and post date updates.

**Just realised the chappy has text me so taking two minutes to reply. I’ll be right back, but in the mean time why not have a cup of tea, go for a wee, sit on the settee, plant a tree or anything else that would rhyme with eeeee**

***Interval music****
Ice cream?


/Speaker/ Please can we welcome back to the blog…… Vicky

Hello, sorry about that. This is what makes me feel somewhat apprehensive. This chap seems very keen on me. I know I know, I have already been told by my friends that if he was distant and disinterested, I would probably be concerned he was meeting me to pass time rather than because he wants to wallow in my awesome.

I worry when people are very keen though. I’m concerned that I might be meeting with a man who has never even within a 10 meter radius of a woman, and just wants to know what one smells like. I’m really not interested in “completing” anyone. Why do people say that? I don’t want someone who is only half a person. I want a fully complete man to start with.

This particular gentleman has text me a LOT. He has also wanted to call me a couple of times and I’ve had to explain that I’m not always contactable, because I do /other/ things than waiting longfully by my telephone praying for it to ring.

Something that he said to me on MSN also worried me. “You are really clever” and “this is the most intellectual conversation I have had for ages”. Now I am going to let you into a little secret. I am an unapologetic intellectual snob. I need to be surrounded by people who can challenge the way I think and my views on things. I earn for the debate with people who can hold their own view and articulate them creatively. Now, the particular conversation we were having I didn’t deem to be particularly challenging. Don’t get me wrong, it was interesting and I was enjoying talking to him, but I am just a little apprehensive that he isn’t going to be able to stimulate me intellectually.

Now you have a little window into my world of crazy. I am something of a self saboteur.

I wonder if it is because the prospect of starting a new relationship threatens my independence. Realistically, I know that this doesn’t have to be the case. I’ve been in long term relationships before and I work well in that environment. I just know that I worked hard to rebuild my life after things changed 2 years ago.

Anyway, I really should go and get ready.

Friday, 12 March 2010

#TYSIC Update

(Ten Year Self Improvement Challenge)

Note: Sorry, this is a long one. I do not blame you if you decide reading all of this would damage your life in some way, but if you do read it all, thank you kindly. Feel free to comment with any advise or tip you have

I have set out my goals, and now it is time to provide the update on my progress. I’ve decided that they should probably be split into long and short term action points.

Short term – Top Priority

Learn to drive
Improve my career
Do regular exercise (code name #operationsexpot)
Learn not to over think things

Mid Term – Medium Priority
a appris une langue
Lose weight
Maintain regular blog
Be creative
Make people laugh
Meet a nice gentleman

Long term
Buy a car
Go travelling
Buy a house
Get married
Start a family
Set up my own company

Learn to drive
I had a driving lesson on Sunday. I seem to have a mental block when it comes to driving. I’m rather lucky in the sense that if I put my mind to something, I will achieve it. Sadly, it seems that my mind is actually what is getting in the way. I second guess my judgement, which inevitably leads to making a mistake. I am finding this utterly infuriating! I just want to be able to do it. I have no idea why I am finding it so hard. My next lesson is a week Friday.

Improve my career
I actually quite like my job. I love the people and I enjoy working in IT, but I am horrifically over worked, and I know that my skill set is worth more than I am currently being paid. I need to see what sorts of jobs are available. The trouble is, I still don’t really know what I want to be when I’m all growed up. I have a few Cloud 9 jobs I would love such as graphic designer, entertainment critic, comedian, managing director of my own firm, Chloe O’brian’s direct line manger at CTU, but no real “calling” to a particular field.

Fail. I need to work on this


I have done reasonably well this week. I went to a class called Body Pump on Monday, which is basically lifting heavy things, repeatedly, to music, for about an hour. I went to the gym for 30 mins on Wednesday, immediately followed by a class aimed to kill you through lactic acid poisioning through your legs, bums and tums. I hurt. But as some masochistic sad case once said, pain is beauty.

Thinking about how to stop over thinking things
I have only been made aware of this being a real issue for me, fairly recently. It affects my driving, my working relationships, my friendships, my relationships and just my overall judgement of a situation. I also have no idea how to work on this issue. Suggestions would be greatly received.

Learn a language

I have a learn Nepali CD that I used for my trek last year, but I don’t know how useful this language would be to me. I have a couple of ideas. I could continue with my French learning. I got a B at GCSE so that might help (Even though that was 10 years ago it’s self) Or I could maybe start to learn Japanese. This is mainly because it is a stunningly beautiful language and I love the fact that they have 3 alphabets. Anyone got any suggestions for other languages I should learn? Maybe I should learn a programming language. That would help with some of my other tasks.

Lose weight.

This is an on going battle for me. At my heaviest, I weight about 18 and a half stone. That was about 2.5 years ago and I am still ashamed that I let it get to that stage. I weighed myself this morning and I currently weigh 16.3. I would be ecstatic if I could get out of the teens. My main problem is binge eating. I do this when I am overly happy, excited or content, or if I am feeling miserable, frustrated or tired. That doesn’t leave me with a lot of time in between to eat healthily. I think that refusing to binge eat may need to be added on to my list of goals

Maintain a regular blog

Well, I am getting there. I have had a couple of quiet lulls where I was either too tired, or too grumpy to write something worth reading, but I seem to be back on the ball. I wrote a little guide to online dating this week, which was mainly written to allow me to air my frustrations, but I have received quite a few lovely responses from people about it which has made me happy. I still have a bucket load of comedy reviews to write up for it, but I have been a little bit lazy.

Be creative.
I have set myself a little challenge to attempt to do a doodle a week. This started with the #preciouslittle robin ince’s view on the war on terror, followed up by my keith lemon doodle. This week I am attempting to doodle Michael legge and james hingley although I’m not too impressed with my current attempt. Still, the more I do, the better I will become.
(michael legge doodle = here)

Make people laugh

There is something about making people laugh that I find completely addictive. I just love making people smile. This week I did it by accident. I wrote a blog entry about some online dating horror emails and sent it to a few of my friends that could relate to it, and they were in absolute stitches. I was really taken a back and completely honoured that they enjoyed it so much. I hadn’t really even attempted to make it funny, I had just been annoyed at the situation and wrote down my thoughts. I think I am going to focus on some writing and see if I can really hone my ability to make people smile.

Meet a nice gentleman
Well, on the topic of online dating, I have booked a date with an ex wrestler on Saturday. He is 6ft 5 and works in civil service and seems rather interesting. I am a little bit nervous though (and this is where my overthinking issue comes in) because he seems very keen.

The long term goals are not really applicable at the moment.

There. Update complete.

Thursday, 11 March 2010

Ten Year Self Improvement Challenge

Ok. So thanks to Mark Watson and many other delightful twitter peoples, I have decided to take part in the Ten Year Self Improvement Challenge. The basic premise is to decide where/what/who you want to be in 10 years time, and set goals about how to get there.

*queue swibbly lines and twinkley sound effects as we zoom ahead to March 2020.*

So here I am, now 36 years old writing my final #TYSIC update. I’m so pleased I put effort into making me a better me. I am healthier, happier and generally living life to the full. Here is the list of things I worked towards to get to where I am today.

I learnt to drive
I got a better job
Bought a car
I met my husband
We went travelling
Bought a house
Got married
Decided to start a family
Set up my own company working from home
a appris une langue
Did regular exercise
Lost enough weight to not have to wear “plus” or “XL” clothing
Learnt not to over think things
De-cluttered and learnt to be a little more organised
Maintained a regular blog
Regularly made an effort to be creative
Always tried to make people laugh

*Swibbly lines and twinkles reappear*

I know, I know. This is somewhat idealistic. I think there are definitely some workable goals in there though.

I will post a weekly update about my progress towards these points and hopefully (slowly im sure) I will be able to tick off some of these goals as I achieve them.

I would love to hear your suggestions on ways to achieve these and your support in my seemingly futile task would be greatly appreciated.

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

Online Dating Tips with Vicky Harsehole

I have decided to let you in to a little secret.  For some reason, known only to the cosmos (and some select individuals) I am what is occasionally termed "on the market" (which is very different to being on the game, unless you are a stock broker in which case being on the market is a game in itself of sorts).  Anyway, having held this title for number of months, I decided to venture into the dangerous and unpredictable world of online dating.

I have decided to share some message writing tips with you, based on some god awful replies I have received.

Should you wish to receive a response to an email message you send to a woman on these dating sites, please do not start an email with either of the following:

"I want to cum on your corset" 
- My corset was expensive and is dry clean only. You want to cum on a corset, get your own bleeding corset

"I know you aren't in to this sort of thing, but reading your profile has left me with a semi"
- Firstly, you don't know me at all. Second of all, if my profile gives you a semi, you certainly couldn't handle the real thing honey.

If you are a teenager looking for a more experienced lady to play with, please do not send the following:

"Im interested if you let me take you to your bedroom and lick you out for hours:P" 
 - Come on sweetie, the emoticon is completely redundant due to the implied actions within the original text.  Also
, most men of our own age still need guidance in this area.  Women over 25 do not want to start from scratch.

Always clean your keyboard:

how r u ? hoooooooop be coming gooood frinds xx
 - I don't know if this is supposed to be some clever use of the letter o to connote a lengthy orgasm, or if you have a "sticky" keyboard, but either way it isn't big and it isn't clever.  I also have no idea what a frind is, but I don't wish to become a goooooood one.

Poor grammer and/or lazy spelling are a big turn offs:

hey ur fit and l love ur eyes

 - Look, would it really kill you to write this properly? "Hey. You're attractive and I love your eyes"  Now as you can probably see from my corrections, I have cheekily assumed that you decided to use the word "fit" in an attempt to describe my beauty rather than my physical fitness level, as I haven't even mentioned my body pump class in my profile.

hello my name is and this is what about me i like to play sports all year round and my goal is joining the marines and i like all different kind of music and i like to watch sports on t.v and i like watching nascar and i like scary movies and comdie andi like to cuddle up after once i get to know you and iam kool guy to hang out with and i playing pool and go bowling and i like to work and i am very laid back guy and i get alone with everyone and im affectionate when the time is right i wannna get to know someone first befor i start dating them and go to see a movie and go out eat and if you Interested pls leave a message

 - Where do I begin with this monstrosity? What strikes me instantly about this block of text is that the only full stop used in this entire collection of monosyllabic nonsense, is between the letters T and V.  For future emails, job applications, or police statements, please note that “and I” is not a valid replacement for the humble full stop.  I am also painfully aware of the severe lack of capital letters throughout this email. Much like the full top issues, you have only managed to use 1 capital letter, which appears to be right in the middle of a “sentence” (or, given that full stops have not been utilised on this occasion, phrases of text in which a breath must be taken to continue living.  See! Lack of grammar can actually kill people.)
The final deal breakers for me are the words “comdie” and “kool”.  It is not possible for me to explain just how much these mutilated words offend me, so I shall not try.

This is as far as I have managed to get from horrific email responses from this week but I am half tempted to turn this into a regular blog spot as some of the responses i receive are hillarious.

Saturday, 6 March 2010

Bedroom ninja

Hello! I'm back!

After a mini break away from the waffle cake, I have returned bright eyed and bushy tailed with so much I want to talk about.

Today I'm blogging from my bathroom, with only a towel and bog roll for company, praying nobody notices I'm here. This is not how I pictured my Saturday morning.

I figured I'd have a nice lay in, followed by a spot of sping cleaning ( belongings excavation is slightly more accurate). Maybe listen to 6 music while I still have the chance, you know Saturday morning type things.

But no. I'm stuck in the bathroom, cowering at every footstep. Why, I hear you cry with untold anticipation? Well I'm glad you asked, otherwise I would have feared this story has become tedius.

The reason I'm hiding out naked in my bathroom is because of virgin media. (insert generic "baddie" sound effect here)

I received a text message yesterday saying that an engineer would be coming to my property tomorrow and to text a certain number if this was inconvinent. As far as I can see, all my virgin equipment works the way I require it to, therefore having an engineer turn up at my house to tell me that it works is not only inconvinent, but rather patronising. I text the number shown to say that I had not been told about any need for an engineer to visit, and that Saturday wasn't very convinent.

I remembered I had been sent a letter from virgin which I innocently assumed would solve the mystery. Sadly, on opening the letter, it appeared thar they just wanted to enquire into my current mobile provider.

I then hit a level of paranoia that can only be reached by watching the real hustle followed by 24 and a bucket load of coffee.

"What if the number I text was set up by scamsters to hijack my phone, or to work out if I'm in tomorrow"

This panic lasted for about 3 minutes before I fell asleep and I forgot all about it. Forgotten at least until I was awoken by my door buzzer at 8.30...

This was the point the bedroom ninja deception started. I live in a ground floor studio flat and my curtains do not quite close. First point of weakness. Should the engineer peer through the window, there is a chance I could be spotted. I instantly shot into the corner of the room that i could not be seen, my heart bounding.

Then my phone started to buzz. I left it, expecting the engineer to leave a message and get the hint. "look engineer man, I've only had about 10 hours sleep in 3 days! My virgin tech works, leave me be in my filth pit"

No such luck... My phone and door buzzer went again, almost simultaniously, and I continued to hold my statue like pose in the corner of the room. Unfortunately it was at this point I realised I was desperate for the toilet.

I realised I had to hold it in as if I moved from this spot, the whole operation would be blown. I heard the front door open. One of my own flat minions had been taken in by the evil engineer. He brought the engineer inside and to my internal door. I was trapped. They hand knocked on my door. I thought it was all over. I was about to hand myself in, when the flat minion had a crisis of concience. "doesn't look like she is in. She might be staying at her boyfriends" After wiping a lonely tear from my eye, I realised the minion has saved me from the ridicule sharing my nakedness and hovel with 2 strangers.

A wave of relief started to flow through me, until I heard *bleep bleep bleep* outside my window. In hindsight i think it was an device to detect my phone line, but I had convinced myself the engineer had brought a vicky detector electonic device and was using it outside my window. This level of stress was doing nothing positive for my bladder needs. I thought he might be checking to see if any of my virgin products were in use. I even turned my phone wifi off just incase.

I had to take the risk. I crawled along the floor, grabbed a towel and quietly opened my door. I had suspicions that the minion in my flat may sell me out if he heard my door go, so I was as stealthy an overweight tired nude can be. I sneaked into the bathroom, where this story started.

I heard my home phone start to ring. I was aware that the engineer was leaving a message but I was unable to decipher it through the bathroom wall.

10 mins later when I plucked up the courage to sneek back into my flat, I creeped over to my answer phone, turned the volume to as quiet as possible to see what taunting jibes he left me.

Apparently he was leaving me a courtesey call to say that the fault with my phone line has been resolved. Could he not have just tried calling it in the first place?

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