Living at home, as I may have mentioned, is not all that wonderful. My main problem is the fact someone keeps hiding my monthly pleasure...Vogue. Anyone that lived with me at university knows full well that when that magazine drops outside my door I am always ecstatic.
It is not that fashion is my life...though I must admit that style often leads over practicality when it comes to my attire, for instance by beloved Asteria's have no grip and so I almost fall over continuously...it is the beauty that is Vogue. I just found this months shoved haphazardly behind the knife rack. The month before it was hidden on the sideboard, the month before that it was under the Daily Mail (God help me!) and the month before that they sent my copy to someone else as it was supposedly "undelivered".
It appears Vogue is just not meant to reach me, but I did my best and uncovered each and every copy...including shouting at someone and making them find the "undelivered" copy that was supposedly not available, they were all gone. I don't know how they did it, I like to think they printed one just for me.
Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Let me relive the joy of university when each month I'd hear a tap on my door. Hello Mr Postman (Post-girl...also known as Nicola...Vogue came through the flat letterbox and she usually delivered it to my room!) how lovely that cover is. It's the cover that always does it.
This month is the yearly glamour issue. "Wonderful". Check out the cover...
Damn you knife rack for hiding this from me. I'll be having words with my father. I'll move out just for this reason if it continues.