Domestication.

I would like a home please. It doesn't have to be fancy, large or even very pretty but I'd like it to be mine/ours. 


Yesterday I realised I've moved seven times in a year. This seems somewhat excessive. Given, there were some unplanned upheavals and I have always been notorious for not staying in one place for very long but I'm getting tired of this to-ing and fro-ing about the place. 


Not to mention the twenty minute history lesson I am forced to give each new lucky Doctor I end up with. 


Time to resurface from debt and save for one of those classy 'Welcome' mats to adorn the family hutch with. 


I have blossomed into a domesticated bitch-face at last. 


Yes Mum, that's what I said.