Flat
June 20, 2003 - 4:04 pm


So I got the flat sorted. I realised all you need to do is put some pressure on, smile sweetly and threaten to staple the housing officers hand to the table and voila! you've got yourself a property. I actually didn't threaten to do that - but they could tell I was capable.

When I went round to see it, it was a pokey little thing surrounded by many other flats that, by the looks of the net curtains and beige flowery wallpaper, are homes to Worksop's "elderly generation". I do respect the elderly but if a single person complains about me playing Stevie Nicks records too loud I'll have to disable a few zimmer-frames and flush a couple of hearing aids down the toilet.

I was really excited at first because, afterall, this will be the first place I've lived in by myself - but then it dawned on me all the responsibility that comes with it. And the loneliness.

I'm socially inept. Without Tracy I'm going to have to make friends with people that piss me off. Because people that I'm attracted to (not in a sexual way, you understand) would rather be friends with Bruce Forsythe than be seen dead with me.

What is wrong with me?

Truth. That's what it is. I tell the truth and most can't handle it. Cowards!

On the whole, despite the expense, the responsibility (because I always forget to put the bin out, pay the phone bill and clean up my own mess), the loneliness and the fact that I won't be allowed to disturb geriatrics afternoon naps, I think it will be a positive experience.

I think.

I hope.

music:
mood:


all words �NFH 2003
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