One week to go in this ramshackle house. Financial drawer tidied up which is a good first step towards future solvency and an easy transition. To be honest, I can’t wait to start filling boxes. Feels like I’ve out stayed my welcome here and that the best course of action is to feint left like I’m going to stay another month and then suddenly double back, couple of key belongings under my arms, making a break for the border, screaming manically and smashing any opposition out of the way with a loose cd case or empty trainer box.
The cold sweeps in and I’m reminded of last winter, spent triple-layered. Heating on max and putting out less heat than rubbing your hands together. As a result we lit lots of candles and huddled over them, blazing strange concoctions, but that’s another story. This time should be different. A new house awaits back in deepest, darkest suburbia, but the prospect of soft carpet, warm showers and fitted furniture lifts the spirits. Just got to pay the council tax, dodge the estate agent for the last month’s rent and potentially smash down the new porch and we’ve made it. We’ve made it to the end.