I’m a bit OCD when it comes to cars and their cleanness. I guess I get that off my dad. I’m currently sat in my boyfriend’s
mums car, which has a faint smell of bark and dust. I’m listening to Heart which is by far the best radio station, as it doesn’t just play one direction, Jessie j and whatever else is top 40 nowadays, however I’m trying not to drain the battery. I’m trying to be good so he can take me to Ikea.
Who knows how long I’ll be locked in this Clio for.
Anyway he’s in the jobcentre trying to get some money before he starts his job as a plod/rozzer/copper/policeman. As you can see below he is enjoying the pleasant atmosphere that is the doll office (excuse any spelling mistakes in the screenshot).
It scares me quite a bit that when I start university he’ll be a copper. I mean…a lot of illegal things happen at university. (Mind I’m talking about someone who steals ray ban’s and fur coats out of skips, and finishes a house party with hallucinating that goblins are sat on his ironing board. That boy was high on life that night.)
It’s now got to the stage when I’m muttering all the words to the radio adverts.
I went to the jobcentre once, but I stopped going a week after because it was awful. Thanks government for my £4. It came in handy. Naaaaaaat. I still don’t have another job, which is surprising considering I’m good at…well…nothing.
Anyway I have nothing else to type, here’s my bored face.
P.s he still isn’t back yet