Lat night we went next door to our fabulous neighbours for a couple of civilised drinks to get to know them and our neighbours on the other side.
Dear reader, it's 9.27am the next day and I am still drunk.
Man alive, we put it away. I can't even remember getting home and we LIVE NEXT DOOR. Yikes. I whole heartedly expect I was a massive twat and won't be invited back, but I am a bit in love with all our neighbours now.
N&M on the other side are pretty much the most attractive couple in Brighton (annoying? yes, of course) and have an amazing house that they've gutted and renovated and they are about 5 years younger than us (feckers). I&C next door's house used to be a restaurant and the original Lavendar Exchange! I's dad is a ridiculously talented artist and they have two cats I think I probably tried to smuggle home under my dress.
All in all, the sense of utter inadequateness that I feel on a daily basis at work, has been amplified about ten fold by trying to make friends. Boo. It all makes me want to go and have another tattoo. I think drawing something else on my body will make me a more interesting person.
Mum, look into my eyes - you didn't just read that - these are not the droids you are looking for....
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