Pass me a stick.

Spores. I'm telling you. SPORES. So...the guy I did my best to put off by emailing him and saying, look, I'm short and fat you won't like it - well. I just shrugged and gave him my number. Three times he's called me today. THREE. *blink* We were talking on the phone earlier while I was waiting to go in and see my therapist (believe me, we had some THINGS to talk about today haha) and he blurts out something disarmingly complimentary about how pretty he thinks I am or somesuch (which threw me - I didn't know quite what to say) and THEN says...look. Let's just get this straight. What dress size are yoU? I say, I'm like, a 22. He goes...Ha! That's nothing. I actually blinked so hard I could hear my eyelids make contact. Evidently chubtastic is okay. So anyway.

...LIVE ACTION UPDATE ALERT!

I actually had to stop typing then because he phoned me AGAIN. Man. Spores, I'm telling you. Or perhaps somewhere in the galaxy the switch has been flicked and suddenly fat chicks are in. Who knows. Anyway he wishes to 'get to know me better'; uh huh.

Speaking of which...Shiny D. No contact again today at all. I sense this one is a funny bugger. Oh well, we'll see eh. I'm not about to chase; I have enough to be dealing with.

W, the fella I went to the science museum with, called me earlier to see if I was okay in the snow, which was rather sweet. He is evidently quite poorly but still wants to go to the seaside at the weekend (to take photos, remember I'd said about liking seaside towns in winter?) - I've said let's check in towards the end of the week, because although it's a lovely idea, I have a compromised immune system and I really can't be doing with catching anything and then not being able to work - which sounds a bit mercenary but times is hard. Sadly though if I get a cold or anything like that, with my cockeyed lymphatic system it's goodnight Vienna for at least a week. Urgh.

Well, beauty sleep is needed. Ta ta.