Moving…

Ok, so heading towards your last chemo session and expecting a mastectomy is probably not the ideal time to be moving house. But I am. Again.

The reality of not being able to work as much as normal is sinking in and I realise I can’t afford this gaff without the support of BoMD (Bank of Mum n Dad). Fiercely independent as I am, I don’t want to sponge on them.

So, I’m off to live with Sarah-Jane. I’m strangely excited and nervous in equal proportions. We are best friends and know each other well. We laugh more than will be comfortable after the op. We let each other lie when it suits. We gossip and cry and everything in between. I am a bit nervous that living in such close proximity will harm our friendship. It better not otherwise I will be very cross indeed.

I hope she doesn’t buy too many Minstrels and Oreos and cakes because we both know I can’t resist them.

I know she is looking forward to me doing the cleaning and looking after Meeeester Boo whilst she goes out on her ‘adventures’.

Now I just need to stop feeling so knackered so that I can start packing and maybe selling a few bits and pieces on Ebay (oh how I love having a clearout!)

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