Saturday, Dec. 20, 2008 - 4:58 p.m.

Harriet and Dave, my kitty loves (and a little of Frank, neighbour kitten).

G, who looks like a 35 year old skater boy, whose job it is to find any rough sleepers in the borough I work in and convince them to come indoors. His specialty is entrenched rough sleepers over 70. He has brought us two in the last ten days.

My new job. This is what work is supposed to feel like. It's taken me a bloody long time to work that one out.

I've not had a cigarette in 61 weeks.

Hot water bottles, rediscovered in the bottom of the bed, after a 3am trip to the loo.

Long term singledom. I'm beginning to suspect this is the way it was always meant to be.

The West Wing. All seven series on DVD.

back - fore