Inebriated and penniless on Oldham Street

I've comandeered my sister's flat tonight. All I'm going to use it for is sleeping. I stayed in this flat, sleeping on a blow up mattress in the corner of this room, for two months. It seems a lot less familiar to me now but at the time it was a godsend. Slap bang in the middle of Manchester.

I love my sister's band, PebbleRidge. They played at the Night & Day Cafe earlier tonight and were excellent. Can I describe them? I have to tomorrow for a piece one of Kirsty's friends is going to publish about them but right now the words won't come to me. Don't worry, I'll just pop it up here when I'm done with it.

When I grabbed this laptop and started to write this I had some grand idea of what I was going to say but now I'm sat here alone, with the laptop burning it's outline into my knees, I can't remember what was so profound that I was desperate to get here and tell the world.

My throat is dry and I am pretty much broke for the next month. I will not be paid for the time I took off work for Glastonbury which means that there is now a £200 deficit in my month's finances which cannot be plugged. So I just have to not spend much the next few weeks. I find it so hard to live on a budget. Especially in the city centre.

I'm yawning and tired, people are yelling as they run down an otherwise silent Oldham Street, I need to go and collapse in Kirsty's bed. She's off at her boyfriend Dave's place for the night so tonight her en-suite bedroom belongs to me. Goodnight.