This following bit was written the other day:

I’m writing this sat on a bike machine at the gym. I’m sat on the only bike that is by itself in front of two rows of men built like brick shit houses. I’m allowed to swear dearest family as i’m potentially on the demonstrators chair therefore a tad wary of my spinning class staring ay my sweaty behind. I’m listening to the artist, Lorde. She is truly inspirational in my time of need. I think i’ll write a poem. 
Accidental spinning class 
Why must you stare at my ass?
Like salt and pepper, 
But no additives would be better.
Just wait for a minute or 10
Because that is when
I’ll be rolling on the floor
Right out the door
Of the easy gym. 
So now i’ve written that, i’ve lost concentration and managed to cut the circulation to both feet and have no idea how i’m going to get off and walk with dignity across the gym. Damn my bargain trainers.
Wow so it’s Sunday morning, I’m of course listening to Lorde as a nice little chaser to my morning Breaking Bad session. I’m going to the Diana Cafe today with a new a friend I made on Friday evening. Apparently it’s a greasy spoon, but Princess Di used to get her Latte kicks there all the time so obviously i’m going to follow in the foot steps of such a wonderful woman.
So this week has been super duper fun for many reasons. On Friday I went to the casting for my advert. Saw A LOT of babies. Sometimes I wonder why I get paid to have so much fun. Went for a pint afterwards with Baz, Button and Chris. It was lads club for sure.
My lovely Rabbi (inspirational poetry queen) answered my question about capers in, obviously, a poem. Here it be:

Capers are unripened flower buds

They are usually pickled in brine

They come from a Mediterranean plant

Used in pasta sauce truly divine

Which makes sense. Capers are kinda buddy. Hey buddy.

Gym is going well. Have been four times this week. I’m gradually building up the confidence to use the big space allotted to people doing weights, sit ups and all that stuff. It’s a bit nerve wracking just strolling into the middle of quite literally a lion’s den of hulk like men and lay down my ladies sponge mat and do my little fluffy sit ups, god forbid I sweat a little.

I hate myself for not blogging more regularly this week. I can’t remember all the fun things I’ve been up to. Oh Gina and I went to Joe’s Cookhouse in Soho on Friday afternoon. It’s like Nandos but 500% better, cheaper and just generally wonderful. £5 for chicken and fries.

Gina’s a sneaky surprise rat too. She’s taking me on a sneaky super silly secret day out, and I thought it was today and i’m beginning to think I was wrong. Humph. (Humph is like when you throw yourself down and make a noise like the air going out of a pillow).

Tomorrow we’re sorting the music for the advert. I wonder if they’ll ask me to play the Clarinet.

Last night I saw Gush, Rio and Nugget. Nugget was truly phenomenal by which I mean she was already passed out upon arrival. Bloody love those guys.

I came back home to the pub and sat with one of the regulars and drank wine and put the world to rights. I dunno what that means really, but we chatted a lot about the world.

I’m starting to buy lots of organic and healthy foods. The little cafe, ‘Crush’ does really good health pots so I’ve stolen their recipes and make them myself now. I wonder how long this will last. (She says whilst she casts her eyes over the bag of chocolate pennies she demolished last night. She is me and I dunno why I’m writing about myself like i’m not here. LOOK AWAY JENN YOU ARE JENN OH YEAH WHAT. Chocolate pennies are not organic or healthy.)

Photo time… Here’s me embracing curly hair and wearing my fantastic new skirt from Beyond Retro. All good… then we have a cheeky selfie from yesterday morning. I think I was just happy to not wake up with hair that’s knotty beyond comprehension. As though someone came along in the night and tied little dreadlocks throughout my barnet. Well anyway, that chap had the night off so my hair looked pretty alright, plus i’m a minger and didn’t take my makeup off so it was one of those mornings where a cup- of- tea- selfie seemed appropriate to document the event. Third one is me not dealing with morning sunshine too well. 

Lastly, we have Gina. God love her.

I met with Sabba on Thursday. He’s going to be a famous entrepreneur soon. I can feel it in my bones. We went for drinks with everyone from work at The Star and Garter. The pubs in Soho all have fancy names. Most of the pubs in Norwich are called like, ‘The King’s Head, The Queen’s Foot’. None of this, ‘7 Dials and Counting Sheep.’ business. But that’s Soho for you. 

Cold Feet

At the bottom

Of the sheet

Thermal socks

Can’t be beat

But I have none

And that’s defeat

Unless I use

The cat’s furry heat.

A little poem about my current disposition. Although as I tried to stick a toe underneath Hutch, she meowed and ran out of the room. Come back cat cat. 😦 

Thoughts to finish on:

Blog more

Skype more

Buy floss

Dust shelves

Charge kindle

Ring Granny and Grandad


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