Unboxing Day

Here in computer corner it is relatively calm.  The window is open and a pre-Spring sun is trying admirably.  I am sweating like a drayhorse in July.  Boxes boxes boxes boxes boxes.  So much shit.  And I suppose there really was a need to bring five tins of Heinz Lentil Soup and three bottles of Domestos, was there?

Downstairs David Bowie's "Let's Dance" is playing on the radio.  I left home in 1983 and the first thing I did as soon as I was alone was put on that track and danced wildly round a rather flea-infested living room in my pink dressing-gown.  Sheer joy at having done it.  I promised myself I would do the same when I got here and envisaged a middle-aged and slightly fat but still very joyous moment.  To be honest I'm just a bit too fucked, and there is not enough room, but I danced in my head.  That will do for now.