September 23, 2006
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[Enter stage left]
BAGELMOUSE: Woo, check out the time on this post! I got back from Ikea very very late, and I’m now letting my late-night pizza settle. The less said about that trip the better, although I will state for the record that I do not plan to hang around West Croydon bus station at midnight again in the near – or distant – future.
But listen! *jingle jangle* What is that sound? That, my friends, is the sound of my new house keys – which although I paid for the place at 11am, I didn’t actually get until 5pm, despite the temptation to go down there, stand in the hallway and yell "get the fuck out of my property, bitch!" I feel a little overwhelmed, all I was noticing was how much needs cleaning and painting and de-mossing. It’s just a little grubby round the edges, nothing serious, and needs a bit of money throwing at electricians and heating engineers. Thank heavens I’m loaded 😉
It doesn’t feel like I own the flat at all – technically, of course, I don’t; the Halifax owns slightly less than 89% and my parents own the rest, I just own the burden of paying them all back. Ah, the grown-up world – it’s been so long in coming that it feels slightly unreal. I’m sure it’ll sink in sometime in the next couple of weeks. Probably around the time that Elgar starts chewing the kitchen cupboards or something and I threaten him with the potato masher for wrecking our beautiful home.
But now, it’s time for a short intermission while I go cold turkey on the interweb until Tiscali sorts the new line out. My parents are coming down on Sunday for a week of "don’t unpack that there!" and "stop complaining about the price of a pint, this is London". Take this opportunity to go to the bar for a drink or buy an ice cream in a little paper cup with its own wooden spoon, as Studio Living prepares for the next Act as One-Bed Living. See you back here when the curtain goes up.