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The exciting (for me) news this weekend is that I get to move back into my house on the 8th of August. 

This is good in that I will no longer be sleeping on my friend's sofa-bed, will have a lot of my own things back and be able to do what the hell I want when the hell I want to...

What is bad is that I only know because I called our tenants, who apparently informed our letting agent a week and a half ago that they are off.  Marvellous.  Why can't there be a little more honesty in this kind of business. 
Perhaps more to the point, why the hell can't people just do things the way that they should be doing them. 

I wonder if it will all be that straight forward. 
I am going to Guildford this weekend anyway, so I don't even have time to worry about thinking about sorting out what needs to be done for then. good time

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about me

Weeks and months turn into years and who knows what surprises a new day will bring? As shelves fill with more songs, dust collects, memories accumulate and we pass through the lives of others, sometimes pausing, sometimes pulling up a chair, sometimes moving on. Thinking that tomorrow is going to be like yesterday. What do we know? I just like words and pictures, so why make excuses for collecting those either? But some things will never change, the sad songs will always be the best ones.

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