I guess so... If there are things for me to do at the flat ("home"... Must start calling it "home"), and bugger all to do at the house ("parents' house"... Must start calling it "parents' house"), that must mean that, in my own mind, I am living it the flat... Even if geography doesn't quite agree yet.
In other news, a planned trip to Westfield was blown out by late running on the magazine the boss was putting to bed (my counterpart having taken the day off) and the fact that, if that hadn't run late, she would have left early due to the nasty gum infection she picked up. There's a good chance she won't be in tomorrow, depending on improvements therein.
Should have gone myself - it's only a short trip by Tube - but ended up helping out.
Bumped into one of the neighbours at the flats' front door and, since she was laden with shopping, opened up for her. Didn't want any help with the shopping but, yes, I did ask.
Making my own dinner tonight, having done a bit of vacuuming in the lounge. If I have any sense, I'll give the bedroom a quick once over before I leave... but it'll be made rather complicated by the assorted decorating detritus that's still hanging around...
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