Sunday 11 September 2011

The Morning After.

I have just moved house.

I am now in a room in a family home, living as the resident gremlin under the stairs; with a fridge next my PC. It was mildly depressing to think the sum total of every single thing I own managed to fit into one Toyota Aygo with room for the driver, however that doesn't count the divan bed I spent two hours angrily demolishing in front of the house before taking it's splintered and be-nailed corpse to the tip.

Everything was set up and the internet working (???) within two hours of my arrival, and today I plan on doing a little exploring for local supermarkets, as I am informed that I cannot live off Bulmers alone, and to find a local swimming pool. My rock and roll lifestyle just doesn't let up here, I'm not sure how I can survive with all this excitement in one day.

I'd like to have a shower at some point, but I don't actually know where the bathroom is in this house; I mean, I could just wander upstairs and start opening doors but for some reason a live-in stranger breaking into children's bedrooms in nothing but a towel won't look good, whatever way you swing it. In fact, 'whatever way you swing it' doesn't sound good either. In fact, I'm just going to stop typing in case I end up on some kind of register for the rest of my life.


Right, off I jolly well go.

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