Toilet.
I’ve just had a moment of clarity about the UK.
Much as I miss it there, the lifestyle I had, the musical opportunities, the friends… I have come to the realisation that almost everywhere I lived over there since I moved out of my mum’s house was a toilet. I may moan about the US (and, believe me, I restrain myself when I’m online) but the places I’ve lived over here have been far nicer, cleaner and safer.
I mean, flats with mould growing under the sink, with junkies’ needles in the back garden, with paint coming off the ceilings, with chav arseholes living upstairs, with burglars around every corner… it was not good. In fact, sometimes, it was downright scary.
I shall retain my rose-tinted spectacles regarding friends, music and lifestyle, but not regarding the place itself.
In other news, diet starts today. I’m going low-GI - want to lose 3 stone by the end of the year. Also, IUI is happening tomorrow, so daddy-hood may be impending. If we’re successful, that will open up a whole new set of decisions and questions…
