A Very Moving Story


I am currently moving house, from a very shabby student house to a slightly less shabby one. Just down the road. On a slightly smaller hill. Which I haven’t actually seen yet (more about this later).

Suffice to say that Esther has made me give away tho thirds of my belongings and I am in mourning. Except all my black clothes are in the Age UK collection van on the way to the HQ, so I am wearing normal clothes and looking miserable.

Here is the solemn body count:

  1. 15 black bags of clothes
  2. 4 boxes of records (farewell Duran, Spandau, Wham, early Beatles and late Bowie).
  3. My priceless collection of The Face and ID magazine from the 90s (which Esther isn’t even impressed that I threw away “They’re just rubbish. You shouldn’t keep rubbish”)
  4. Countless accessories and shoes and things that are neither one thing nor another but are just nice to have around.

Sob.

Next week I shall be back with more exciting tales of boredom and ugliness.

 

"Toodlepip my faithful friends, I'll never forget you."