Goatee dropped me off early in the day, as he’s trying to make it down South. He’s still hopeful he can push some booksales in England before Christmas.
My Sunday was uneventful…
FringeSister and her husband are fighting, which is why she’s been staying here. First, Fringe is angry with me, because Fringe and Marathon didn’t know I was going to be gone all weekend, ‘If we knew you were going to be gone, my sister could have slept in your room. But since I didn’t know if you were coming back or not, she had to sleep on the sofa.’
I told her that she should have rung me, as I don’t have a problem with FringeSister camping up in my empty room. This did not appease.
FringeSister spent most of the afternoon screaming down the phone at her husband, until he turned up shouting from the street. (Yes, I’ve been there. So, I have no room to complain.) Fringe finally got rid of him, but now there’s talk of the police coming around. Jeese, I wish Goatee hadn’t left town today; I would have enjoyed the quiet of his flat.