My coffee break has been cruelly disrupted by a film shoot every single morning. When I step outside my own front door I trip over celebrities. Literally. Shouldn’t they be…. caged, or something?
Best part of my new dwelling (brace yourself): hot water on demand. With a mixing tap! Quiver at the luxury!
Oh, and I painted the whole flat a tasteful cream colour selected from a “heritage” palate. Does this mean I’m a grownup now??