Something about summer and Mrs Goggins
25.05.12, 5:40 pm

Summer has finally arrived and Sheffield is looking bloody gorgeous in the sunshine. All week the students have been pretending to revise whilst lying around in the park that's near my workplace, and consequently there's a LOT of naked flesh on display. Why do boys insist on taking their tops off? 90% of the revealed specimens are pathetic, scrawny-looking things, and I can't believe it makes them feel any less hot. The hot weather's also brought out the local pervs, who sit outside the second-hand furniture shop down the road on manky old sofas and leer at all the girls who walk past. Excitingly, it's going to be lovely all weekend too, so have convinced the boy to let us have a BBQ tomorrow night with lots of sausages and beer. Yay!

We're currently house-hunting. Last week we found an amazing one, and were getting quite excited and thinking about bidding, but then found out it had gone at 11th hour. Which was quite gutting. Anyway, hopefully plenty more fish in the sea and all that; we're going to have a squint at one tomorrow morning. James and I totted up our combined fortunes last weekend and my �17,000 ISA savings looked a bit sad compared to old Money Bags, but at least I'm contributing something. And that amount in 5 years is pretty good going, I reckon.

Off to Scotland next weekend to see James's parents, and hopefully to ignore everything about the sodding Queen's Jubilee. That or get so traditionally at-the-parents plastered that I don't care. James's mum is more obsessed with houses than we are at the moment, so will definitely take the opportunity to bang on about it for hours and hours. Needless to say, my dad is not interested in the slightest, because he too is trying to move house at the moment and subsequently doesn't care about anyone else's life.

Okay, time to stop typing away indoors. Shall go sit outside and read my book with next door's cat, who James has named Mrs Goggins, as in the Mrs Goggins from Postman Pat. Except it always gets shortened to Gogg, and always therefore reminds me of Peep Show and Superhans going, 'Relax, it's not Blue Peter! I'm just having a nice relaxing smoke of crack. Tell you what, that crack is really moreish.'

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