Ruth Bratt

What I should really be doing is cleaning my bedroom which currently has the appearance of being inhabited by at least 4 tramps, who own a lot of paper, books, toiletries, and clothes with holes in that should have been thrown away but it seems such a waste.  My friend Sarah and I call the pile of stuff which is on the left hand side of my bed my “junk boyfriend”.  I’ve dumped him a few times, but he’s pretty tenacious and always manages to come back. He’s a bit of a stalker to be honest, and has started to take over the whole room.  I now have a junk boyfriend in the corner of my room who consists of a bee costume, two Princess Leia outfits, various wigs, and some make up; there is a junk boyfriend on the sofa in my room who consists of three hats (one squashed), five sweaters, a bra, a Sanctuary gift set, some Lush smellies, four pairs of leg warmers, two scarves and some crosswords; the junk boyfriend who blocks the way into my room is made up of the box of junk I moved from the sitting room when I had a party a month ago, two handbags, two pairs of new leggings from H&M, a poster of the improvathon, a pair of boots and the new shoes I bought last weekend; my bed junk boyfriend is three notebooks, a plastic bag, my accounts, a hat, and four pens.

My major problem with my junk boyfriends is that there is nowhere else for them to go.  If I move them, they will just become new junk boyfriends with different components in a different part of the room.  What I think I might need is a real boyfriend who says, “Ruth, your room is a bit messy, perhaps you should clean it up and then maybe I’ll come over and stay more.”  Or a boyfriend who comes over and says, “Look, mate, leave her alone, can’t you take a hint, she doesn’t love you anymore.”  Or one who says, “Leave us alone or we’ll call the police again.”  Or just some willpower and interest in cleaning up the room when there are other things to do, like trying to work out my website and blog, or watching the last series of Lark Rise to Candleford, or trying to download The Illusionist so I can cry at a cartoon.  All of these things are way more interesting than once again dumping my many junk boyfriends.

I’ve decided to enter the world of websites.  I’m very confused.  I’m building this myself, but really need someone to do it for me.  Like so much of life.  My life would be a lot easier if someone else did things for me.  Like taxes.  And cleaning.  And lots of other things.

Basically if someone did the stuff I don’t really like doing.  What I like doing is making up things in front of an audience (or sometimes just in the privacy of my own home while baking cake).  And taking photos.  And baking cakes.  And eating cakes.  And spending time with nice people.  And at the moment, listening to lots of Mozart on BBC Radio 3.  So because this is a test run, I’m going to stop this stream of consciousness and publish it and see what happens…