This afternoon, Kate said that she wants to move out of the flat, and soon. “When we can afford it, Brad and I plan to move in together.” I was half shocked, half not. Brad lives with his parents, so hanging out at his is – I assume – can’t be much fun for Kate. I don’t really connect with Brad, and the flat’s small, so being at Number 10 is – I assume – also can’t be much fun for them. On the other hand, Kate liked the flat so much that she wanted to accept it before seeing any others. Why the sudden change of heart? Not that sudden – it has been five months since then.
Personally, it’s a massive, massive kick in the balls. As longstanding readers will recall, I’ve moved three times in the last two years already: from Paul’s to Ryan’s; then to Matt and Chaw’s house; and then to Kate’s flat. I don’t want a fourth move. I want to be in the same address for the whole of the Jet programme application process, for ease of mind, as well as for ease of administration.
Frustration built up inside of me, and I went to my room to conceal my rage.
As I sat outside Proof and sipped at a pint of Thinking It All Over, I watched the pigeons above Quality Save: taking off; soaring as one; swooping high; landing. It all became clear: I would move out first.
I listened to OK Computer most of the way through as I waited for Laura at the station. I met her on the platform, we kissed, and then I told her my plan.