I don't live with my father any more. He's an asshole. So I'm glad. And from what I can see, he doesn't live there either. The windows have been dark for 2 weeks. I hope he flew off somewhere and died. I hope Dennis isn't lonely. Poor ghost.
I've been living with Jamie, which has been wonderful. My cats are with me and everything's good. I am sick of having him support me though. I feel guilty. So, now that my face is presentable and bruise free, I got a job at a little cafe around the corner. I make espressos and serve them to very unfriendly unappreciative people. SO feel free to come visit. It's called Vincenza's because they're trying to be more up class than they actually are. It's on the corner of Victoria Lane and Sheffield Close. I have to wear a green apron.
I hate aprons.
BUT there is a very attractive male that I work with. I shall call him 'Attractive Male', as I do not wish to disclose him name at present. Especially not if you DO visit me. But he is lovely, and he actually tells funny jokes. The customer's, however, do not. And if one more person orders a coffee and asks why there is no milk in it, I shall spill it over their heads. Coffee has no milk unless you add it. You are after a latte. Read the board, you caffinated idiot.
Dear lord, I am becoming a bitter waitress. I hope a better job comes along soon.
EDIT: I changed my journal layout with some of the new pictures that I finally got back from my mam. I told her I wasn't going to move there and she was sad, but I think I should stay here for now. Being a photographer's daughter does have an upside. Look, she made me appear presentable! How odd ;)