Wednesday, November 03, 2004
This is my last blog as an early-thirty-something. Tomorrow I will officially be in my mid-thirties. How scary is that? Very scary: I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon talking to a pensions advisor, and Butter and I are aiming to buy somewhere within the next year. Anyone know any good money-making schemes? I'm too old to be a rent boy now. I have taken to selling my old junk on eBay though.

I've been out of my cast for almost a week. At first it was like being a newborn calf - without the gunk, obviously. It's taking me a lot longer to walk around too. My right leg will hardly bend. You should see me trying to get in and out of the bath... actually, you probably don't want to. (But if you do, send me money and I'll email you some pics.) I'm doing lots of exercises trying to get mobile, with Butter doing her sergeant major act, making me work that limb while I lay on the bed whimpering.

We're going to a swanky hotel tomorrow to celebrate my birthday. Four stars, with spa facilities, and you have to wear a jacket or tie to dine in the restaurant. This will make me feel even more mature. Butter called them today and was told that they don't have a lift and that all the ground floor rooms are gone. Great. I can feel a disaster heading our way.

Speaking of disasters, isn't everyone happy that Bush got back in? Bang goes the planet.