Green Tea and Sympathy

I have just dropped my biscuit into my tea. Normally, this would only be a minor crisis, alleviated by a scooping action with my finger, but today it is a global disaster. You see, my goldfish died yesterday. At the risk of sounding five-years-old, I really loved him (and yes, he was a him, not an 'it') - I bought him lots of treats, I cleaned him out religiously, I played with him to stop boredom (on both our parts). Now that he has passed onto the goldfishy heaven, there is a gaping hole in my heart, which I am filling with green tea and sympathy. Saying that, I am only drinking green tea because I have no milk to make 'proper' tea - consequently I have a funny taste in my mouth all day, but my body gets 'flushed of toxins and impurities from the inside out'. A fair trade, I would say.

I'm moving house this Tuesday, and the pile of boxes in my room now almost reach the window-sill (which is pretty high) - my bedroom has become an obstacle course, where you are likely to be bludgeoned on any number of the beautiful things littering my floor. I have shopped like no other these past few weeks, draining my overdraft like a heroin addict with his last hit. In retrospect, perhaps I did have no need for the oil and vinegar drizzlers, but they look so pretty and the girl in the shop was lovely. This is how it works for me - be nice, and I will just throw my money at you. Good job I'm not into prostitutes.

Anyhow, heartfelt sympathy from friends has travelled my way, and I am pulling myself together today. Going to bed at half past 4 in the morning hasn't done a great deal for my complexion, or sense of wakefulness, but I'm hoping this green tea will counterbalance that. Failing that, I'm sure I hid half a bottle of wine somewhere...