Before I came back to live with my parents, I spent three years in Manchester, a year in Oxford and another three years living in London. I’ve been living here, in my “comfort zone” for three and a half years. My younger brother moved out last spring. My younger sister is getting married and moving to the U.S.A next month. I woke up on Tuesday and thought to myself: “I really must get out of here, before I end up like Robert Crumb’s brother.” Off I went to the estate agents, got some rental details, took a look at a place on Wednesday, signed the application on Thursday, got accepted on Friday, and will move in on the 20th. The only thing is, I have no furniture. If anyone would like to donate a sofa, or dinner table, get in touch.
The things I do to avoid writing.
Now I’m going out to play football. This is not like me at all.