It's all I can do to sit here and not stare lovingly at my sofa as I type my first proper update from my now settled New Place.
Said sofa is in, ensconced opposite large new HD telly. I have broadband. All my furniture is bought, and I think it's safe to say I don't have to deal with any more estate agents, mortgage advisers, or solicitors.
All I have to do now is live, and I may start remembering again that I could do with a more exciting job. Oh, and a girlfriend.
But it's great being an adult. Frequent visitors may recall that this was what The Pit looked like, back in Chiswick...
Now my bedroom looks like this...
But the nicest thing about that bedroom is the fact that it's become just that, the place I go to at the end of the night to cry myself to sleep. Most of my time is now spent in the living room, pretending to write but instead surfing the net and staring occasionally at the sofa and wondering why I'm not lying across it in a drug cocktail fug...
The irony though is that I'm not doing anything else; my friends are now spread across London including Large Northern (Ex-Flat)Mate, whom I've spoken to the most as he deals with the crippling depression of unemployment in another friend's house near where we used to live.
As for me, I'm skint, having spent all my money on things like cupboards and blinds and the like that's forced me to stay in all this weekend, but I was overwhelmingly overjoyed to discover on Saturday that my newest neighbour is a single (as in "Living Alone") young lady who is really very attractive. She is also doubtless dating some gormless meathead I've yet to see squeezing her arse in the lobby one morning.
Having said all that, we did exchange fattening cake products through the window as her guests hung out of hers, smoking. Nonetheless, Gorgeous Neighbour was careful never to rise above disinterest, something I'm very used to in attractive women.
So that's everything thus far and things seem to be going well, other than discovering that part of my new development has been given to the local council housing association.
While I don't wish to sound unkind towards the less well-off in society, I'm none too impressed that my neighbours and I have paid a fucking fortune to move in here, only to discover some places have been given to those on welfare, for free.
I don't want to sound elitist, but one such recipient of a brand new house may have been the young man who last week drove, tyres screeching, into my block and gave me evils as he turned at speed round the corner.
It may even have been him who wrote 'I was here 2010' in biro on the brand new carpeted corridor outside my front door.
Either way, it beats what was outside my Chiswick front door last year...