Back in the bad big city. The Cumbrian road signs warning of badgers and red squirrels have been replaced with witness appeals to burglaries and stabbings. There are so many other differences. Up north, if you're strolling down a quiet street, complete strangers will greet you with a cheery 'hello' or nod of the head. If you did the same down here, you'd end up on some sort of register for the next ten years.
On the plus-side, I have four more days away from work. A double weekend. The job hunt continues and I've just sent my CV off to a company in Manchester, although I'm not entirely sure what it was - (client facing destination management consultancy...?). Sadly, my dream job has already been taken - pudding taster for Sainsbury's (I met the man who was doing it a couple of years ago. Surely that job is wasted on a man anyway?).
Southern Man is away for a stag jolly, so I have the place to myself this weekend. Torn between watching bad films with a face pack on and joining friends in the pub near Borough Market. Half way through either, I'll wish I was doing the other.