My sister moved into the flat yesterday where I have been living with a mad spoilt racist for 6 months. Now the racist is gone. It's a breath of sweet liberal air to no longer have to explain things like the vital role of immigrants in the British economy over breakfast. Instead we can just talk about toast.
The housewarming we had yesterday unfortunately was more of a house-breaking, and my self assembly skills (or lack thereof) were exposed as two chairs and a sofa all imploded. But I'm sure it's nothing a tube of superglue won't fix.
Louise also sat me down and made me write out a plan for the next 18 months so life gets a bit less aimless. Stuff to look forward to: Doing a politics A-Level, going to France, moving in with friends...
And (and!) I have gone from the pathetic and frankly ludicrous position of being seemingly unemployable (having been turned down for the last 15 jobs I applied for - even selling socks) it now looks, tentatively, like I might have secured two. Maybe. Hopefully. Let's all cross our fingers because the long-distance relationship travelling fund (all my money in the whole world) is now down to its last tragic pennies.
And and and I discovered the best greasy spoon ever, right on my doorstep. Crawled there this morning with Lou and her boyfriend for fried egg sandwiches to soothe the lingering effects of last nights revelry. Mmm. Revelry. And sandwiches.