They’re neatly stacked on three trays, each carrying fifteen. It’s taken me five years to amass it and something like £12,000. Most of that was spent on travel, moving, appliances and so on. I rarely take them out – unless I get exceptionally excited from thinking about them. That usually occurs before I sleep or soon after I’ve woken up, and I couldn’t describe the thrill I get from licking each one individually. I remember once when I was pulling them out, and I dropped the whole shelf . . .
My collectibles are the only strange thing about me, besides that I’m your common, almost stereotypical young woman: I have a bearable, but okay paying job that allows me to travel – which is good for adding more to my collection. I have friends, family, a boyfriend – or full time arch-enemy – and I spend a lot of time doing what people do: drinking, going to the cinema and eating out. The girls and I even went to a library last weekend, just for kicks. It’s only when it comes to this that I lose all sense of humanity. I become selfish, only wanting to further my collection. The joy I get from lining them up on the table is unique and at the same time uncanny. It gets me wet, it makes me sick and I even throw up at times, but I need them. For obvious reasons I can only have them out of the freezer for short periods, but a few moments are enough. However, sometimes, I do wish fingers were easier to collect.