Oh.
My.
God.

That was the longest post in AU history. Also, this is the most dangerous as I'm writing this at work. I've been getting strange looks for giggling so much....

Anyway. Flatmate is fine. I got quite happily drunk last night and came home and he actually let me hug him, which is a BIIIIG advancement from his usual gruff exterior. I think he appreciated my jovial being.
And my cigarettes...

Anyway - my BOXES are arriving tomorrow! I've taken the day off work to do this and get a blood test and, in general, be useful. I plan to pack them and send them next week - my wardrobe will be severely limited afterwards, I warn you all.
In worse news, I'm spending the weekend with family. Meet dad and GF for lunch on Saturday, from where we drive two hours to secret family location (ok, actually it's a very pretty village) to see second cousin N (who, for the uninitiated, is also technically my boss's boss) and family (imagine organising THAT with the whole office listening to your conversation - EXTREMELY embarrassing!). Then, we drive to the locale of Midhurst, West Sussex - supposedly a quaint little village with a country pub and bed and breakfast (this was my dad's choice - I wanted Brighton) and after what he is calling many drinks and dinner, bed. Sunday we head off for my grandmother's home's 'summer garden party' - and I believe it's supposed to be raining. Afterwards I get to go visit my aunt and uncle who hate me.
Then I get to go home.

The only bright spot is that I'm going to leave the house at 9 am Saturday and get off my train a stop early and go to Primarni in Woking in the hope that it won't be so bloody busy as the London stores are. Sigh, the things we do for beauty.

God - somebody come save me from myself.