Friday, 10 December 1993

S,

How are you? It’s a stinking hot 32 degree day and the working mood is simply not upon me, even though I have the only personal desk fan in the office (a present from Leah).  How’s your stomach now and how’s Jack’s foot?  Thanks for the prezzies too, the Dime Bars went straight into deep cryogenic preservation to be thawed out on extra special occasions (not unlike the recent telecast of Diana, Her True Story” – what absolute cack! I watched the first episode last night for lack of anything else to do and I must say that she is, by the end of the first episode anyway, turning into a right fishwife. And then she hurled herself down those stairs, well!)

Mum tells me you’ve (i.e. Jack) plastered one of your walls to cut the noise from the neighbours next door.  Has it worked, or can you still hear the nightly serenade from Sinbad and his cast of Forty Thieves?   I wish we could do something to cut down the noise from our neighbours (scumfilthshitturds) with whom we share a wall.  They’re a bunch of Uni Students and I think I told you all about this when you rang.  Never mind, I guess this sort of thing happens when you start getting on a bit.  Oh well, as least I’m not at the absolute end of rational, cohesive thought.

I’m going over to Mum’s place tomorrow night to help her sort out some of the junk still in boxes.  I’m thinking of asking her whether I can shift in for a few weeks.  I dunno, Leah just rang then and I told her I was writing you a letter and she asked if I was writing about what is was like having a horrible girlfriend, and that sort of crap really shits me, I mean, what’s the point?  She hung up on me yesterday too because she said I was a cheapskate, and I made some jokes about it and she’s still shitty about it today.  It’s not my fault if she doesn’t like a joke I make, there is no inherent good or evil in a joke, it’s how she chooses to react to it which makes it right or wrong, so how can it be my fault?  I’d leave, but I don’t know if anyone else would put up with as much of my crap, though I’m really beginning to think that there’s nothing in a relationship that I can’t do or fulfil for myself.  They definitely seem more trouble than they’re worth.  Not just with Leah, but all of them.  I think that one of the main (if not the main) reason I went back to Leah was the fear of being alone or never finding anything as good again, but now I don’t think I want to look really.

Anyhow, from morbid ponderings on the condition of man to a request on bended knee.  I hate to do this to you but could you do me a massive favour?  When I was in England I discovered the perfect deodorant and I can’t find it anywhere over here.  The eight or so I brought over with me have run out and I was hoping you could get me some and mail them over to me for the sweltering Summer.  It’s dead cheap (as a matter of fact I found it in Tesco’s) it’s called “Sure” and comes in a plastic blue stick and from memory I think they’re about 89p.  Airmail ‘em over and let me know the cost and I’ll stick the money in your visa account for you.  I really, really, reeeeaallly appreciate it Sis, pleeeeassse?

I’d better go now, it’s about quarter to five and I have to print this out and stick it in the mail.

See you.

Love J

PS It’s called “Long Lasting SURE, solid COOL BLUE Anti-Perspirant Deodorant”