Just back from a very late babysit, and another taxi driver who asked me the way. You know that thing stuck to the window with like a map on it, yeah? It tells you where to go. And I'm tired. So tired I couldn't actually remember my address for a minute.
Something that is excellent about working in the houses of the relatively affluent is they have great saucepans. It occurred to me tonight that I have never had a really great set of saucepans. Partly this is down to not getting married. People tend to score good saucepans through marrying - in fact this may be one of the main reasons people get married. I have had a couple of sets from Argos which, let's face it, were never really going to last. Ooh that could be metaphorical and stuff, but I think it was just lack of money.
Having got used to some really solid heavy-bottomed pans in recent months, I now have saucepan-envy. There's little point buying anything yet as my flat comes equipped with sub-Argos cookware (plus I have my own limping, dented Argos cookware) which I shall happily leave behind one day. But in that middle-distant future, when I have a bigger flat in this area, with shelves so I don't have to keep my books in a wardrobe, I will buy pans. Really fucking ace saucepans. I might even get married to celebrate this achievement.