Not that I don't love spending three weeks sleeping on the floor of my mate's bedroom, comparing snoring patterns and giving him tips on what to wear in the morning, but sometime the good times just have to end and you need to leave the party before it starts getting stale. Actually all bummer jokes aside, I've had a lot of fun being Handsome Dan's room mate, and a part of me hoped I was never going to find a place of my own. Most likely the part of me who thinks about not spending copious amounts of money. So foolishly I have found a neat little place down in Clerkenwell, sort of halfway between Angel and Chancery Lane. For the money it's actually quite good, and now Dan can get back to the old fashioned method of getting to sleep at night.
