cute enough to shoot you down

1. Notice that he seems to be squinting a lot whenever he reads or has his nose buried in his sketchbook.


2. Trick him into going to have his eyes examined, because the ban on hospitals also extends to everything that isn't the surgery, apparently.


3. Point out that he's thirty-six and these things happen as people get older.

I don't know where he is right now. Avoiding me, at any rate. I'll try to post pictures when he gets his new frames in. :P

omg Can this day be over yet? Please?

Because I work for the NHS, in a position where new advancements in medical technology and practises affect my job, I just got to spend the last 12 hours listening to some guy with the world's worst lisp talk about a new procedure for something so rare and obscure, most people will hear about it from House and/or Casualty within the next six months (assuming they haven't already. I don't actually watch either of those. All the inaccuracies, I tell you. ALL OF THEM).

Anyway, that's why I was down in Wimbledon today. I figured, S is sick, he's probably not been up to much, and since I've had all my jabs for the year, having a cuddle wouldn't actually be the most risky thing I've done all day. And he's sick enough that he might have even let me get away with it.

I'm not in the mood for a cuddle. I don't know what sarah_s and Mrs not_thatbill did when they came over to check on S, but the bedroom looks like a bloody warzone happened in a Tesco's aisle.

I suppose I should have known something was up when Sarah called me for advice. I really didn't think making some tea and toast would have been that big of a job, but apparently it was!

Seriously. Why is there jam on the carpet? That shit is never coming out. There's soup there as well. And the bed is full of crumbs. What did he do? Sleep in the toast? Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know. The kitchen's a disaster as well, which I know, it wasn't great when I left this morning, but I'm pretty sure I didn't leave the milk lying open (and on its side!) on the table.


I swear to god, he's like dating a two-year-old sometimes.

He's nailed one of them to the wall, you know. How you could have not seen that coming is beyond me.

Not a whole lot going on lately, I'm happy to report. Well, aside from a bit of idiocy the other night, but that's all been taken care of.

Well, some things have been going on. Things I'm only allowed to blog about under F-lock. I'm watching Sherlock on the floor, playing with his cat, (probably) arguing with someone on the internet, and drawing all at the same time. The king of multi-tasking, right there, people.

There's been a bit of progress lately. Negotiations to get there were tough, but we worked it out. Basically, I cannot tell him to go to bed anymore. I don't know if this is indefinite or just until he decides he's done with the new experiment though. Calling it an experiment did get him more keen to try, though. What I'm talking about is the whole issue with red. We've still not quite got that far, but I am pleased to report that at 35 years old, the man has eaten his first apple. I'm not sure if he liked it, but there you go. It's a slow process, but my hope is that maybe with a better diet, his sleep patterns might mellow out naturally.

In other big news, and related to the first bit of this entry, he more or less broke into mscontrarymary's flat the other day to make himself a bacon sandwich. It sounds ridiculous, but he did. And ignoring the breaking in part (still don't know what goes through his head when he does that), it's actually a good thing. It takes him a long time to get to the point where he'll trust someone else's kitchen (he ate nothing but take-away from the same three restaurants for the first three months we were together). So progress all over, I'm quite pleased to report.


Not really related to any of this, a few months ago, ssarah_s suggested that I take Sherlock on holiday for a bit. With my schedule finally mellowing out a bit, I'm doing just that. We'll be spending the second half of November in France, where Sherlock has some family. I'm not actually sure where in France, and we probably won't be with them the whole time anyway. So, we'll be offline for that time. Or, I'll be offline, and he'll probably be glued to his phone the whole time. Like the brat he is.

While we're gone, does anyone want to take care of Maurice? I'm not sure I want him skulking around here for two weeks while we're gone.

*[ooc: Commenting enabled; locked for plot reasons]

Woke up to find the curtains in the bath. This is not recommended treatment for them. I'm not sure I want to know what he was doing while I was asleep.


I guess it's good to know that he's feeling better. Don't know why he had to celebrate with the curtains.

I came home today to find the front room full of garden gnomes and a six-foot termite boring holes in the wall. At least the gnomes are gone and the holes all confined to S' room.

The gnomes in our back garden are also gone. Finally. I'm not sure if they all belonged to the same person, or if the bloke who came to get the ones piled up in our flat just has a serious gnome fetish and wanted those as well. Either way, no more gnomes. I've also confiscated the drill, so there should be no more holes. The last thing we need is for S to hit an electrical line or something.

Strange sort of day today. Got up and went to work like normal.

And it stayed relatively normal, for a given definition of the word. I wasn't expecting S to show up, though. He came in with one of his moods on and just sat in the waiting room for about an hour. I'm guessing he fought with someone, but I don't know with who or over what, because by the time I finally had a break, he was gone again, and no-one saw him leave.


If anyone sees him, could you send him home please? Thanks

Home after a hellish day at the surgery. What is it with people who know there's something wrong with them, and then wait until the something wrong grows to the size of a melon before seeking help? Jesus, people.

We've been really busy packing and slowly moving stuff over to the new place. If I managed to forget to give you our new address, let me know. I'm not mass-texting it because I don't know how.


Any friends of S' reading this: he may be a bit sporadic in his net usage. On top of all the moving, something seems to have happened with a friend of his or something. Whatever it is, it's put him in a bit of a mood.


OH. Pub night! I knew I'd forgot something. It was pretty ordinary, as pub nights go. Tony's still a prick and tried to take our table again, but we set him right with the help of a couple of new guys to the quiz. They seemed pretty all right. One of them was former military and served in Iraq. He and his boyfriend joined our team, which was a bit unfair to them, because it means they came pretty close to last on their first night. haha sorry, guys. We told you we suck.

We may be seeing more of them at the quiz. Hopefully we do. They seemed to be just as annoyed at Tony as the rest of us.

We signed the paperwork on the new place today. I think we'll probably start moving this weekend, and just take our time with it, and then use our notice period to clean up this place and attempt to get my deposit back. I'll make sure everyone gets the new address sometime this week.

Also, Mary stopped by yesterday. OK, she came by because I asked her to. We talked and things are good. Like most things, everything that happened over the weekend was just the result of a massive communication breakdown. Apologies have been made, but it may still take a while for everything to completely calm down.


On the Minecraft front, I took his laptop cord away. He bought a new one and has now taken to hiding. So, I give up. He'll get bored and/or pass out eventually. I hope.

Went over to Mary's today to see the new cat. I don't know what she's talking about, the little guy's a sweetheart. He tried to hop right up on my lap, but couldn't quite make it, so I had to pick him up. S seemed quite taken with the little guy as well. It wouldn't quite hand feed from him, but I'm not sure if that had more to do with the cat, the cone on the cat's neck, or the brace on S' hand. But it let him pet it as it was eating, so there.

Some time between leaving Mary's and coming home, he managed to 'misplace' his brace. I think he left it in the cab, the brat. He kept complaining that it hurt -- not his wrist, but the actual brace. I guess that's why he doesn't wear a watch? I don't know. I was about to lose my head if I saw him shove one more thing inside it. I've told him that taking it off will only screw up his wrist even more, and his response was that he'll just not fall off any more desks. Which I guess sort of answers the question of what he did to himself in the first place.