Margaret in Spring

Firstly, so sorry for not writing before; regular readers of this blog will be aware of the sheer flux of my personal life and won't be surprised that I haven't put fingertip to laptop before now. For those who don't know me I'll fill in the three-month gap. Well, you're aware that the criminal mastermind that was Roger Reynolds/Shaun Parker/Dennis DaSilva etc was caught by the police at Heathrow trying to leave the country with a false passport and a case containing the film rights to Transformers 6: Rise of the Public Sector Workers? Anyway, to cut a long story short he was and he still owes me the tidy sum of £498.36 in back pay. I am slowly (but surely) paying it off with pilfered stock, since February this year I have managed to net £30.89 in eBay sales (minus fees and PayPal charges...) So, I couldn't afford to rent a flat above the gravy-smelling cafe so I was forced to move back in with cousin Eleanor, newly single since her last boyfriend ran off to join a cult of tantric yoga enthusiasts in Carshalton Beeches. It's a fairly amicably arrangement, I've been granted the front bedroom and dining room to exist in, unfortunately she won't move either the dining furniture nor the gerbils out of here so I'm forced to spend my evenings sat in a hard upright chair hearing the constant paper-gnawing or squeaking of my rodent housemates. Not that I'm bitter. I have just sold two pairs of jeans on eBay to form a refund on the pay arrears that I suffered under the awful Roger. I am currently awaiting payment of the third, I hope they pay me tonight or I'll have to factor another trip to the Post Office into my week and I'm not keen on that at all, I hate the smell of other people, it upsets me.