Last weekend was a weekend of extreme indulgence featuring the worst gig in the world. The Turin Brakes are an attempt to make folk music seem cool. Honestly, unacceptable. I was only there with SO's insistence and I tried my best to be gracious and not impatient (which is not my strong suit) so just drank heavily. A parental visit the next day was followed by a wonderful spring party with Alex and Evan meant that Saturday disappeared in an alcoholic haze and then Sunday was "Come Dine with Me" which has turned into "Come Force Alcohol Down your Guests". Everyone took the approach that alcohol is the most effective sauce for any food. In my delicate state I can barely remember desert and it was a lunch so by the end of day I was in horrible state. I must admit the Come Dine with Me experience is not one I'm in a hurry to repeat, not because they were awful people (they were fun) but because it's just so damned hard to organise eight people to be in the same room at the same time.

As a result I was feeling a little delicate on Monday. Unusually delicate for me in fact. I heroically made it to the awesome Therapy gig at Water Rats but wasn't totally in a position to enjoy it as I should. In fact, it became clear that the issue wasn't hangover but some kind of bug and I spent the next few days in bed wondering which end of me to hang over the loo next. Not pretty.

This did mean that instead of my scheduled trip to York for a stag do I stayed at home groaning and clutching parts of me and now have a completely free weekend. I have finished all my Ikea and Jahnke (*) and have no plans for more furniture. Now I've got two days with very little on schedule.

At this point the moving in process is pretty much complete. There's a couple of shelves to put up and I need to conceal my wiring runs a bit better but basically "all sorted". Now, would I do anything differently? Yes, every single surface in my house appears to be high gloss. I am wandering around my flat frantically wiping at everything because the whole place looks like it's currently being dusted for prints no matter what I do. In particular, the glass shower screen is a disaster of fingerprints, smears and water stains. Honestly, I wouldn't normally bother about such things but it's starting to get to me. The real problem with having a nice house is that it requires a lot of upkeep. Indeed I'm sure having a horrible house was a lot easier. I've I'd bought something a bit older I could have said "sure, it has grass and mud and leaves in the living room, but what can you do? It's old." My flat is now two years old. In how many years is it acceptable for me to let it go and say "you've got to expect these older propreties to look a bit 'lived in'?"

(*) Some kind of German Ikea -- probably don't want to be called Gerkea because of how it sounds.