After three weeks of constant visitors my flat is my own again and I can continue in my Bridget Jones style life. This weekend - cleaning, and laundry, laundry, laundry. I never want to iron again. I'm almost tempted to get an ironing lady, but my left wing, northern bird principles are so far stopping me. In the depths of North Manchester where I come from cleaning lady/ironing lady/gardener/"woman who does" etc = slattern.
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