This morning feels like Christmas morning, with the slight difference that instead of presents, Santa has left a note in the shape of Greek stand-up comedy. And that was it, an anger note coming from the Greek philosopher, who called me "the Spaniard" in the same way that the British intended it (as an abbreviation of "Spanish bastard") and slagged me for my rude manners (oh dear!) and like a genius oracle, congratulated himself on his guess that my personality will ruin the beautiful relationship that Soph and I share.
Absolute bollocks of course.
It's fairly obvious that he who feels he owns reason shall try to drag everyone who has tried to spot his spotless record down to the mud with him in his last chance. I really couldn't give a bigger shit. When I was being read the note, that of course was all in Greek so Soph had a chance not to show to me (cause hey, that is not rude!), I felt like I couldn't laugh harder.
All I will say, in reply, is that I am so gutted that I can't be a hypocritical person, and when I deeply despise someone, I can't canalyse any words out that are not insults or swear words. Hence they should have been happy that I was silent. And I can't pretend either. Not to mention that they did not deserve my acting - I wanted them to feel hated, full stop. If that turns me into a cave woman, then let it be.
On the other way brighter side of things, I am delighted. There is an empty room for me to put all my shit in. We went to Ikea last night and it's just going to be absolutely fantastish! We have to go again at some point, and get more stuff, but so far it feels good. It really feels like absolute freedom.
Now I'm off to better stuff. Like the million of e-mails I need to start sending and the suitcases I have to move around. And some music.
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