inept

Tonight I was forced to fight the sock monster living beneath my bed, armed purely with a broom handle and a can of pot pouree air freshener to dis-orientate it. This tells me it's high time to employ a cleaner, I know I'm bigger than cleaning. A friend offered to clean for me for a few quid a week but I know that my cleaner should have the same confidentiality as my doctor, a kind of cleaner - dossmonger confidentiality.

I don't know what I'm still doing up, we're all off to the coast for the bank holiday weekend - 12:30am start to avoid the hordes of caravanners dragging their tin homes and chemical toilets along the motorway purely to spite me. Hopefully we'll hit the Cornish coast for sunrise...