Fleapit

I restored my room to something like its natural state, removing the TV and the debris of everyone’s meals.

In the afternoon I called round to Maynard Gardens to see Pete. Alex answered the door wrapped in a dirty blanket and said that Pete wasn’t in and had moved a lot of his things out. The downstairs of the Grey House looked semi-derelict, and this irritates me. Sarah now appears to be a permanent fixture there too. Her room (ground floor, at the back) is an untidy fleapit, walls pinned with scraps of paper, drawings, ‘collages,’ etc.

I spent the evening up at the Westdorgan with Lindsey or Susie or Stu or Barry or some combination of all four.