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Friend required

I have been invited to a weekly exercise class. I would like to go, but obviously I cannot go alone. So I am looking for a new friend. They must meet very specific requirements.

1. They must always be free on Thursday evenings, from 7.30-10pm. If I am not free, they still need to be.

2. They must be enthusiastic and motivating but not grating. ‘Shall we bother going to this outdoor exercise class?’ I will ask. ‘Well, we might as well,’ They will reply. ‘I’ll make us bacon baps when we return.’

3. They should be good, but not better than me, at sport.

(I am intensely motivated by beating people who are slightly worse than me. Conversely, I am entirely disheartened by those who are much better than me at things, and give up instantly. It’s really the only thing that’s preventing me from competing in the Olympics).

4. They should be easily impressed. If they are easily impressed by women in neon Nike kit, so much the better.

5. They must have a very good sense of direction, and the ability to locate the exercise class- which, as far as I know, takes place on Hampstead Heath.

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I wish my neighbours would stop moving out

I’ve been living alone this month. In fact, the people opposite have moved out, so this is probably the most isolated I’ve ever been. (Once again, the rapid turnover of people living opposite me is correlative, not causal. I have been telling the estate agent this for weeks. I’m close to winning him over). Although too much solitude can make some people excessively odd, I’ve noticed that living alone is great.

I’ve created a life for myself that is remarkably convenient. In the morning, I lean the right side of my body precariously out of bed and pull up my blinds. I then judge by the sunlight if it’s time to get up. (The clocks going back has really hindered me- yesterday I was barely up by lunchtime). If it all looks rather grey and gloomy, I put on my eye mask and go back to sleep. (My eye mask is not one of those fancy silk affairs sported by the likes of Paris Hilton. I picked it up from economy class on a long haul flight in the 1990s. I actually think it may be giving me a rash).

I wake up refreshed but slightly itchy and get out of bed. On my way to the bathroom I prod my music system with my big toe, and KISS FM blares into my face. (And the faces of my neighbours, if anyone new should ever decide to move in opposite). I dance merrily to the bathroom and brush my teeth. (I also take this opportunity to test various facial expressions in my mirror. Today I experimented with ‘a tiger is chasing you run!’ and ‘oh no I ran over your tiger, I’m so sorry’).

I wander downstairs still in my pajamas and remove some clothes from my tumble drier. (I am using my tumble drier as a wardrobe. I still don’t know why they don’t market them like this). I don’t have any ‘traditional’ breakfast items, so often start my day with a handful of slightly stale crisps and a mouthful of Loyd Grossman pasta sauce. (I do the voice, obviously. It’s tremendously fun. When my neighbours were still here I would often greet them like this).

It’s very important to exercise regularly, so I make sure to wear sports shorts as much as possible. (I assume wearing sports clothes and doing sports have the same effect. It certainly explains Nike’s prices). It’s not good to spend too much time alone (although as you can see I’m managing splendidly) so at about 3.30pm I pop over to one of my remaining neighbours for an after-school snack. ‘Off for a run?’ They ask me. I smile knowingly. Living alone is great.

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