The one week I hadn’t been my usual clean-freak-self meant that every room in my flat had some sort of mess in it. I ran around cleaning things up or moving things between rooms to their rightful ‘place’. Cleaning done. Fuck. I hadn’t showered. How much time did I have left before he arrives? 4 minutes. Where did all that time go?? Immediately after I turn on the shower, I hear a text come through on my phone in the next room. Ahhh, I think he’s here- I continue to have the world’s quickest shower (for a female), jump out, half-assed dry myself and chuck on a yoga bra, lounge jumper (easy to pull off) and yoga pants (I think he’ll like my ass in these..). Another message comes through, but this time it’s not him, it’s my housemate. He’s already heading home. I grab my keys and run downstairs (I’m on the 2nd floor).
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30 minutes. That’s all we had.