The start of it all

A sure way to make your ex think that you're totally mental is to text them the lyrics to November Rain - link - at quarter to one in the morning. I did that last night. I woke up with no memory of sending the message, but there it was, smirking at me in my sent items like a little brother that has caught you wanking. "You should be ashamed, you're very naughty." I keep letting myself down, and badly. Shit.

I went round and signed the contract at the new place first thing. I took the bike but I should have left it at home - I was quite probably still drunk after all that booze yesterday. Ben was weird again, but I'm not living with him, am I? The back tyre was totally flat by the time I got to Didsbury Pointless, so I pushed it home from there. Durex came round to help me move the largest and heaviest of my things today. He was stunned at just how little stuff there was there. It was partly because I'd not pulled my finger out and packed everything. It's partly because I don't own much. Two loads of the Ka was plenty. As we went past 46, we went crossed paths with Phil in his silver spaceship car that can fly. Durex started talking about BMWs on the way back totally independently of seeing Phil. So it starts! Durex and I sat down for lunch in the Battered Cod, which was lovely, and then watched the Liverpool game in the Red Lion. That's the Withington I'll miss most, I think. Battered Cod and Red Lion.

Later I went to town to meet Robbie, who's been ill. On the bus there, I ran into Chubb and Z-Box, who were off into town to see some friends. It was lovely to see them on the way in, and I was overjoyed to see them on the way back too. They seemed more drunk than me. I had a chicken burger on the way home.