Hans Constanze

Afternoon to you all!

It's a lovely day here in glamorous Stockport, I've just got back from visiting my lovely and deranged gran who threw a spoon at my head. It runs in the family, this strange absence of normality. I've also painted my nails with Ukrainian and Polish flags in eager anticipation of my holidays, and dyed my hair a wonderful shade of green. All is good. I even managed to pass my flat inspection. At least I presume I have as they haven't tried to evict me? Maybe there's a policeman stood outside but he's too scared to knock because of the scary loud Blutengel music I have playing. SCARE THEM AWAY WITH THE GOTH IN ME. Raaaa, all the goths love skipping and rainbow hair. Fear me and my milky skin. Anyway, I think I've looked after my flat very well, he's always happy and clean and not worryingly messy.... Ish. I have to have a bit of chaos, alright?!

This week at work has been another challenging one with my ridiculous amounts of fatigue. It has however been a fun one, with lovely stamps galore. My attention only wandered once, on Friday when there were some amazing rainstorms outside, oh, how I wanted to run through the rain and puddles. I love the rain, perhaps far more than I should. Maybe it's just because I like wearing my green plastic mac that makes me look like a giant condom. Another one of my very sexy looks, and I wonder why all my love is unrequited. I can never work out if it's the distance and my obsession with Eurovision or just my resemblance to contraception. Mysteries aplenty.

I also still haven't managed to sort out the medical certificate that costs a fortune that I don't need. I tried to phone on Saturday to confirm that they were open like the suspicious sounding woman said they were and SURPRISE SURPRISE I got the "welcome to the motherfucking out of hours service" answerphone. I am very glad I didn't make the journey over there. Or I may have got a little stroppy and shook my finger at a door in a minor outburst of frustration. The NHS could be so simple, yet they sometimes make the simplest thing into a Rubik's cube being eaten by a bear. Razzlefrazzle.

Another medical mystery is what happened to my course of vaccinations. If I can ever get in contact with my GP surgery then I'll be able to ask if they ever received the request. And they'll of course say that they didn't, then I'll phone the hospital and they'll say that they did and we'll have to once again blame the Cancer Fairies and I shall have my MMR etc another day. I'm really excited about having them again, I remember when I had the TB jab at school the nurse tricked me into looking away by asking me to pass something and I wanted to watch because I've always been morbidly fascinated by these things and I like needles and that nurse was mean bla bla bla. Well, she wasn't mean, she just didn't want to cause a scene as an 11 year old girl got overexcited about biology.

But now I think it is now time for me to leave. I have a massive pile of sugar (containing such delights as lemon curd brioche, smarties and choc dips) and we need to become further acquainted. I think I'll post before I go off on my holidays in a week (ERMERGERD I AM GOING TO POLAND AND YOOOOOOKRAIIIIEEEENAAAAA WHICH SOUNDS LIKE HYENA ahahahaha I win again) but if I do vanish for two weeks it's not because I've died or anything. Well, I might have done, but I'm aiming not to. And even if I do die it'll either be with a kalashnikov in my hand or at the hands of an Eastern European gang which are both pretty dramatic ways to go. I am going to drink all the Lviv beer and eat all the sturdy soups and look at all the museums ever. Especially the Pharmacy Museum which I may refuse to leave. Apparently there's also an underground part, if there's one thing I love more than a good pharmacy then it's and old underground Ukrainian pharmacy.

Bye bye bye,
Constanze :) xXx

P.s I must also phone to see if I can know my donor's identity yet. WANT TO KNOWWW.

P.p.s I can't remember if I've mentioned the swollen ankles problem? Well, I have now. My ankles keep swelling up. And pins and needles and stuff. ACORN LORD my legs are ridiculoso. Need Jimmy Carr to come and massage them better.