Leaving aside the fact that I had cheesy chips from the chippy for my tea last night, I've become so middle class that it's nearly beyond parody. I can't stop thinking about gardening. I don't have a garden as such- more like a communal garden that I'm a bit scared to change too much, and a balcony. HOWEVER. There are so many possibilities. I want to get some balcony planters to hang off said balcony. And all that's just part of my crazy scheme. Also I was a bit sad that birds didn't seem to be touching the feeder I'd hung from my balcony, so I BOUGHT THIS:

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The balcony itself now looks like this, owing to my unfortunate habit of 'rescuing' dying plants on special offer from shops because I feel sorry for them:
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I'm obsessing over the idea that it'll somehow attract BATS, which I love. This slightly brings me onto my next point about why I'm becoming middle class. Not only did I spend my Bank Holiday weekend gardening, I also read planning applications. They're planning to build a massive chain pub right next door to me. I'd still be opposed to it if it wasn't next door to me, but the main reason I'm opposed is because of the potential noise and disruption caused by a pub that stays open till at least midnight throughout the working week. I'm trying to mobilise a bit of a campaign and get in touch with people who might agree with me and stuff. I feel a bit bad getting so involved in what, in the great scheme of things, is a minor issue (I used to go on anti-war protests), but I suppose it's not like I'd use the time I'm investing in this very wisely were I to do something else. Oh, and one of the arguments we might have to oppose this is because there could be BATS roosting there and a pub transformation would disturb them.
I think I need to lie down for a bit, partly because I'm going mad and partly because my back's still giving me a bit of bother.
ARGHRGHRGHGH I HAVE JUST AGED 45 YEARS AS SOON AS I TYPED THAT LAST BIT.
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