I am most definitely not writing this at work.

OK, OK, so I'm at work, but everyone in my department is either sick, in a meeting, or on holiday, and I haven't the slightest idea what it is I'm supposed to be doing. I'm also tired from staying up last night; I was supposed to meet my flatmate in the city centre, but by the time I was there he and his friends had already gone into a club which--unbeknownst to him, or so I'd hope--had no cell reception, so I ended up wandering around looking like an idiot until some woman asked me if I was lost and I gave up and went home. Is it just me, or does that sort of thing happen to me a whole lot more frequently than it does to other people? Am I really that forgettable, even in a country where Jews and Americans seem to be in short supply?
I mean, it's probably just as well that I didn't end up drinking. Yes, I had work the next day, but mostly I'm referring to the fact that drinking's expensive in this country. I spent more than I'd like to admit this past weekend, and I'm a lightweight--how do guys with American-football-player builds manage to get drunk here and stay solvent?
So yesterday notwithstanding, the flat's been interesting. A lot of guys, for one thing: three of them are living there long-term, and this one guy's friends, who are all out of uni and temporarily homeless, occasionally sleep in the spare bedrooms. They're all pretty tidy, at least, and there's been a minimum of weirdness (actually, I could stand more weirdness; one of the temporary flatmates has, and I'm not kidding, the hottest English accent I've ever heard. Scottish accents are fun to listen to, but they don't compare with the English in terms of hotness, do they? Like, imagine Spike, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as a Scottish vampire. Doesn't work. I blame Groundskeeper Willie.)