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Once again, I apologise for no formal tales yet. I most humbly ask for forgiveness, my friends, compadres, general wellwishers and random smurfs.
Parental figures One and Two have left for the grand expanses of Espania for the duration of 1 week and have designated house-keeping to myself and the most tall, annoying little brother. Much amusement shall ensue, I find myself fearing.
I have a rather long essay for Politics due for tomorrow. It occurs, rather repeatedly, that perhaps I should do said essay.
For those pondering "Why the fuck is Kathryn talking in this ridiculous way", the answer lies in the Shoebox_Project to which I have only begun reading this very night. I began to read with Rich Tea biscuits and a cup of hot tea beside me at the beginning and now I have no tea nor biscuits. Must - Raid - Kitchen.
There are a scant few lights switched on within my house at this moments. The reason for this is that darling Matthew and I rarely exist beyond three rooms in our house: Our bedrooms, the Computer Room and the Living Room. Occasionally we find ourselves in the kitchen during a raid for food to be carried back to the current room of our residence.
There shall be a sleepover within my house upon Sunday night. All are welcome, if you wish to purchase a last minute plane-ticket to Ireland and particularly fancy spending an entire, nonrefundable evening of your life with a group of rather insane, sometimes inane, bunch of girls.
I wish to announce that I find myself running short of things to say and find an even bigger worry that I will have no more reason to procrastinate on my politics essay. To which I say BOLLOCKS and will sign off.
Farewell all.
Parental figures One and Two have left for the grand expanses of Espania for the duration of 1 week and have designated house-keeping to myself and the most tall, annoying little brother. Much amusement shall ensue, I find myself fearing.
I have a rather long essay for Politics due for tomorrow. It occurs, rather repeatedly, that perhaps I should do said essay.
For those pondering "Why the fuck is Kathryn talking in this ridiculous way", the answer lies in the Shoebox_Project to which I have only begun reading this very night. I began to read with Rich Tea biscuits and a cup of hot tea beside me at the beginning and now I have no tea nor biscuits. Must - Raid - Kitchen.
There are a scant few lights switched on within my house at this moments. The reason for this is that darling Matthew and I rarely exist beyond three rooms in our house: Our bedrooms, the Computer Room and the Living Room. Occasionally we find ourselves in the kitchen during a raid for food to be carried back to the current room of our residence.
There shall be a sleepover within my house upon Sunday night. All are welcome, if you wish to purchase a last minute plane-ticket to Ireland and particularly fancy spending an entire, nonrefundable evening of your life with a group of rather insane, sometimes inane, bunch of girls.
I wish to announce that I find myself running short of things to say and find an even bigger worry that I will have no more reason to procrastinate on my politics essay. To which I say BOLLOCKS and will sign off.
Farewell all.
