The Classical Folly Of Trying To Defend Territory In Asia
On Friday, after a hugely busy week with lots of long working days, I felt too tired to cook so bought pizzas on my home. We ate these and I fell asleep by half-past nine.
Loads more rushing around on Saturday. In the evening we went to Martin and Jo’s leaving party, as they’re heading off to live in Somerset. The night was also the first and last ever gig for Killquik, as Martin is their vocalist. It was all fun and on the way home, slightly worse the wear for drink, we agonised about how great it would be to make cheese and Marmite toasties back at the flat, but couldn’t because we’d run out of sliced bread. Y ran into the nearest kebab shop and then came out again, excitedly telling me that the owner had agreed to sell us four bread rolls for £4. I thanked her for this bold and inventive solution but suggested maybe we could do better with some more negotiation, and we eventually ended up with a 7” pizza and some chicken wings for the same price.
On Sunday I cleaned the flat. A lot. My parents called because their computer had stopped receiving emails and they needed me to call over and fix it, which I did, and was duly rewarded with a free lunch: pizza. I learned that my grandmother has been discharged from hospital (somewhat earlier than expected) and is catching up on her rest back at home, with my aunt staying over for a few days to make sure she’s okay.
Tonight we’re having our first guests over at the new flat; Mike E, Ollie, Chris and Craig. By popular consensus, it’s going to be a Risk tournament. With pizza, naturally. Craig recently dug out some home movies we made as teenagers and transferred them to DVD, so there might also be a screening of some of our more cringeful attempts at making splatter-horror, using toy guns for props and tomato ketchup for special effects - if all this doesn't irritate our new neighbours then, god help us, I don't know what will.
So, yeah, that’s where my life is at the moment. Things have been so busy for the last couple of weeks that any attempt at novel-writing has ground to a halt and I've not felt like doing much in my free moments apart from falling asleep. I’m also developing a sort of Pavlovian response to the “p” word now and after a few more days of this punishment I’ll end up cowering in a corner and gibbering every time someone utters it. If I’ve not died of cholesterol poisoning by that time.
Loads more rushing around on Saturday. In the evening we went to Martin and Jo’s leaving party, as they’re heading off to live in Somerset. The night was also the first and last ever gig for Killquik, as Martin is their vocalist. It was all fun and on the way home, slightly worse the wear for drink, we agonised about how great it would be to make cheese and Marmite toasties back at the flat, but couldn’t because we’d run out of sliced bread. Y ran into the nearest kebab shop and then came out again, excitedly telling me that the owner had agreed to sell us four bread rolls for £4. I thanked her for this bold and inventive solution but suggested maybe we could do better with some more negotiation, and we eventually ended up with a 7” pizza and some chicken wings for the same price.
On Sunday I cleaned the flat. A lot. My parents called because their computer had stopped receiving emails and they needed me to call over and fix it, which I did, and was duly rewarded with a free lunch: pizza. I learned that my grandmother has been discharged from hospital (somewhat earlier than expected) and is catching up on her rest back at home, with my aunt staying over for a few days to make sure she’s okay.
Tonight we’re having our first guests over at the new flat; Mike E, Ollie, Chris and Craig. By popular consensus, it’s going to be a Risk tournament. With pizza, naturally. Craig recently dug out some home movies we made as teenagers and transferred them to DVD, so there might also be a screening of some of our more cringeful attempts at making splatter-horror, using toy guns for props and tomato ketchup for special effects - if all this doesn't irritate our new neighbours then, god help us, I don't know what will.
So, yeah, that’s where my life is at the moment. Things have been so busy for the last couple of weeks that any attempt at novel-writing has ground to a halt and I've not felt like doing much in my free moments apart from falling asleep. I’m also developing a sort of Pavlovian response to the “p” word now and after a few more days of this punishment I’ll end up cowering in a corner and gibbering every time someone utters it. If I’ve not died of cholesterol poisoning by that time.