A car sweeps past the window on a street covered with rain as Neil Young plays "Dead Man" and my mind is set to wandering.
It's going to be a hectic week for me. On the 29th of this month my friend, Sara, arrives from Sweden to stay for four days.
Because of this my mother is doing her level best to drive me insane by "getting the house looking respectable."
It's never occurred to her that I may not want my house to look respectable. I like my little bachelor pad looking like the men behaving badly set. The Led Zeppelin poster on the wall, The Dutch TT flag draped over the fireplace, The stolen RAMP road sign above my bookcase next to my skateboard, The stereo that can shake the foundations of the building and the drum kit gathering dust in the corner are all more me than the hellish vision she more than likely has in mind for my house. I bet there will be chintz involved. Or least a throwrug. Whatever the fuck that is.
I dread to think.
I'm looking forwards to Sara coming over as it's been ages since I saw her. (For all I claim to love to write I sometimes lapse on keeping up with things in Sara's life.) After Sara leaves I'll be knuckling down to get the money together for Africa. So it's Goodbye to spending too much money on cigarettes, alcohol and drugs,.. Chinese takeaways, Pizza, Kebabs and Curries,.. And Hello to living on fish fingers, sausages, beans and the cheapest known to man chicken kievs. Drastic, I know, but if I'm too have as much fun (See; Money) on my African trip as I possibly can I'm willing to sacrifice as much as necessary.
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