I get drunk and sentimental

Our relationship was just like a sandwich toaster. You know, you just forget you've got one. And it just sits there on the top of the cupboard collecting a layer of greasy fudge. And even if you do see it you just assume it's broken, you think if it's working I'd be using it all the time, but you don't and it just sits there. Then one day, you get an overwhelming desire for toasted sandwiches. And you get it down and it works, and you can't believe it. And then you make every kind of toasted sandwich there is, you have toasted sandwich parties. You make marmite and cheese, chocolate, and pilchards,
banana, and acorns. And then as quickly as the desire comes, it just goes. And then you put the toasted sandwich maker away. And, you know what?
You don't miss it.

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It makes me sad from drunkandsentimental 771 days old

that I am not looking forward to the weekend. I love weekends. I get to sleep. I get to shop. I get to stay in my pj's until teatime if I so desire ...
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