I'm presently putting stuff in storage. The amount of shite I have managed to accumulate is shocking. Loads of stuff that I can no longer use thanks to the feckin' virus. Tons of things that nobody will be able to wear or touch, especially the more theatrical contrivances. I am standing in the study and then in the storage room, the 'trastero' as it is known in Spanish. The only word I can conjure up is despair. Bascially a rubbish dump for things you are too scared to throw out. It's Sod's Law that a week later you will find a use for that mile of bubble wrap you kept just in case you meant to send someone something that might break in the post. I could go back years with all this. When I first met Mr van de Ven I witnessed stuff in his flat that had potential to put me off him. One was an apron that had what appeared to be a bikini or bra and pants on it. I turned round to him one day and said 'it's the apron, or me'. He went into a bit of a panic and said it was a gift from a colleague and what if. ' What if what?' I asked. 'Well what if she comes round one day and sees I have thrown it away?' These are the perils of everyone. How often have you wondered this shit? The 'gifts' from the pub on Saint Patrick's night that end up somewhere 'just in case'. The books, presents, clothes, and so on that people get you for your birthday and Christmas that just leaves you thinking 'you don't really know me do you?' Why am I writing this? I guess as a warning. Do not give me anything unless I can eat, drink, read or look at it and admire it. You all have been warned!!