| Monday, August 23, 2004 |
 | OK, so a gold star to whoever can sort this one out for me - what exactly is the profit in remaking Alfie. Is it even a sensible financial proposition? Those who have even heard of the original will be disgusted, and those who have not are going to be asked to watch Jude Law (fresh from Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, which I suspect will be the Rocketeer de nos jours) oozing and sliming around Manhattan, which sounds about as inviting as a shit sandwich, really.
Ah well. Everything is happening at once at the moment, in a manner that is proving really rather hard to deal with. First up, there is the flat, of course. Flatmate departs end of this week, new flatmate arrives on Thursday following. At present the flat is covered in boxes. It's an exciting time, but a singularly ill-timed one, coincinding as it does with the fist quarter results of my employer, which is making the sort of early nights and dedication recommended for this sort of life-changing event. The plan is to sign a short-term contract, and then see what happens with a) the rent and b) the current dilapidations. If shit can be got together, I'll stay. If not, I might just move down the street to somewhere a bit smaller - the sheer space of this flat is intoxicating, but all it really means is that I have a means not to throw stuff out, creating instead a pantechnicon-cum-garage-sale in the common areas.
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