Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (ebook pc reader .txt) 📗

always work when everyone else is off.

Like today, on Easter Monday.

We made seventy-five pounds, and Kate said that was terrible.

It was just Emma, Kate, and me today, because Pat insists on “observing Easter” (even though I don’t think anything happened to Jesus on the Monday), James is visiting his family in Kent until tomorrow, Bill and Melanie are still in Marrakesh, and Alex is attending an Easter fund-raiser for which he has baked a Victoria sponge cake, which apparently is actually called a “classic Victoria sandwich.”

Emma and I found a book called The Woman’s Guide to Cookery and Household Management. We were going to make it the donation of the week, but it’s too good, so we’re keeping it.

It’s the thickest, heaviest book I’ve ever seen, and it’s proper hilarious. There’s a whole chapter on how to “handle” staff, and one chapter is about how to cook for “invalids,” which basically means cooking for sick people. There are ten pages on how to make different types of soufflé. Having been a woman a hundred years ago must have absolutely sucked.

What even is a soufflé?

In other news, we can see the kittens’ distinct coloring now. There’s one tortoiseshell, one gray, and two tabby ones.

Emma’s coming around as soon as their eyes are open, so we can make them pose for pictures, and then we’ll set up an Instagram account: #catsofinstagram.

Exciting times ahead.

Tuesday, April 3 #Passover

James is back from his Easter break.

On our way in, Kate was like: “Phoebe. I know you’re beside yourself about James being back, but you really need to calm down.” And then she put on actual lip tint.

Seriously, she needs to calm down.

When he got in, he was like: “Hi, Phoebe. Did you have a nice Easter?”

Me: I don’t believe in Easter. I’m Jewish.

James: Fair enough. Did you have a nice Passover, then?

Me: Great, thanks.

I immediately downloaded the Jewish Festivals app, because quite frankly, I had no idea what James was on about.Passover: Commemoration of the Jews’ liberation by God from slavery in ancient Egypt, and their freedom as a nation under the leadership of Moses.

Apparently you’re not allowed to eat anything that rises. Like bread. Which means I failed Passover this year because, apart from the chocolate egg, I ate toast all day on Sunday.

When I was taking down the Easter cards in the thrift shop this afternoon, it occurred to me that we had zero Passover cards, and bearing in mind that approximately 263,500 Jews live in the UK, that’s pretty shit.

Even if 50 percent of the Jewish population bought a card at, let’s say £2.99, that would mean the thrift shop card people could make £393,932.50.

So why aren’t they?

Also, get this, the millisecond the last Easter card was packed away in its special box that we have to send back for special recycling, this old woman comes into the shop and goes: “Excuse me. Have you got any Easter cards?” I was like: Are you actually kidding me?

She carried on like: “I always buy them just after Easter for next year.”

I swear these things only happen because people have too much time on their hands.

While I was on the shop floor dealing with every weirdo in Wimbledon, James was in the back (alphabetizing the books I had already alphabetized a few weeks ago), hanging out with Emma.

By the time I returned to the stockroom, they were BFFs, which annoyed me.

James: Emma, where do you go to school?

Emma: Wimbledon High.

James: Do you like it?

Emma: Yes, it’s okay.

James: Do you play any sports there?

Emma: I play hockey.

I stumbled over my own two feet then, because: Why didn’t I know this?

I mean, okay, I’ve never asked that question specifically, but I’ve known Emma for a few months now, so why don’t I know that she plays hockey?

I seriously need to get into the habit of asking better questions.

Emma must have been like: Oh, wow, James is really interested in my life, and look, that’s indifferent Phoebe over there, dragging a box of Easter cards to the back door.

10:41 P.M.

Here’s a list of questions for Emma tomorrow.

What’s your favorite thing about school?

What’s your least favorite thing about school?

Have you by any chance started studying for GCSEs?

Who’s that boy in your profile picture?

Wednesday, April 4 #Feminists?

Epic fail on the question front; I didn’t ask Emma a single one.

Emma showed James The Woman’s Guide to Cookery and Household Management, and her and him and Kate had a proper laugh over it.

Is nothing sacred? That’s my and Emma’s thing.

And then James was all like: “We’ve come such a long way in the last one hundred years when it comes to the role of women.”

Emma was like: “I know, but there’s a long way to go yet.” And James was all agreeing and talking absolute bollocks about wanting to smash the glass ceiling.

Normally, when people are being pretentious idiots, Kate would be like: Now, now. Enough of being pretentious idiots. But she just stood there listening to James going on and on, and she was like: Oh, James is so right, James is so wise, everyone should be like James.

Blech!

Seriously, when does his uni start again?

And why can’t he work day shifts at the Goat? I know for a fact they’re open for lunch.

At dinner Kate said that she’s going to ask him to go on the till more often, because he’s so beautiful, and that the power of delicious biceps shouldn’t be underestimated.

That’s totally sexualizing him.

The Woman’s Guide to Cookery and Household Management discussion has taught her nothing.

Thursday, April 5 #TheNewMessiah

Yay, Alex is back, so I basically hung out with him all day.

Everyone else couldn’t get enough of worshipping James, who found a crinkly old book of First World War poetry, and was all like: Blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah. Isn’t this profound? And Kate, Emma, and even emotionally void bloody Pat were all like: This is the most profound poem I’ve ever heard. Its profoundness is so profound it literally aches with