Not really having a pro-active day. Woke up to find Stu in the living room, in his boxers making himself very much at home, which by the way is not his.
'What are you doing?' I managed to say through the pounds in my head.
'Making a brew.'
'Does one not own a kettle?'
'One does actually.' He rolled his eyes to the heavens and I placed my hands firmly on to my hips.
'What are you doing here and do you know you're in my kitchen in your boxers?'
'Does one seem to have a memory block?' He mocked, kissed my forehead, threw his clothes on and left the house.

Memory block? No. I remember exactly what happened last ni... Oh good God! NOOOOO!

Flash back no 1: 8pm - me slightly tipsy on the phone to the ex (Ste) begging for him to come round and keep me company on a Saturday night. Please note that tears and emotional blackmail were involved.

Flash back no 2: 10:15pm - Ste arriving at my doorstep, slightly drunk himself, me even more drunk. (Tears and emotional blackmail still involved).

Flash back no 3: 10:17pm - Ste in my bed - NAKED. Me in my bed - Almost NAKED (well he struggled for a good five minutes with my bra strap).

Oh good God.

Please Santa, all I want for Christmas is a brain transplant. Wipe my memory and (even more emotional blackmail coming up) I'll sit on your knee for as long as you want.