Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh !? I'm SOOOOO over this moving thing. Thank god tomorrow's The Big Day, and that'll be the end of it.

As someone who's a sworn ground-floor-liver, it seems somewhat silly of me to have signed a 12 month lease for a 4th floor flat. Ah well… thinking never was one of my strong points.

The real “fun” came about on Wednesday night when we shifted a bunch of stuff out of Charlie's flat over to ours. See, hers is a 3rd floor flat. Therefore, in order to actually get anything from hers to ours, that was 7 floors that needed traversing. Ye gods, I haven't had that much fun since helping Julia shift to the 6th floor in Marseille.

At least Charlie doesn't play the piano.

And on the up side…. NO MORE GOD DAMN SILVERLINK JOURNEYS !!! That makes it all worth it, I'm not kidding.

I was late to work today, and it's just one of those stories that there's no hope in hell that anyone's going to buy. (Hint: Stop reading NOW if you're at all squeamish or just don't wanna know)

When I got to the train station to buy a ticket, the ticket machine was out of order (as usual), but the chick who works there (Agnes, I think her name is – the one who seems to randomly price tickets) was nowhere to be seen. After a quick visual recon of the area, I spotted her at the other end of the carpark outside the station fence, and managed to beckon her over with a series of complex hand gestures. After what seemed like a fairly complex ritual, she entered the ticket booth and sold me a ticket, looking a little distressed. It turned out – as she explained – that the reason she was out there was because she was getting some fresh air, as some delightful soul had shat in the corner of the station house, and after putting up with it since 7am, the smell was somewhat overpowering poor Agnes.

In the time it took for all of this to transpire, of course, I missed my train.