Sometimes the grey side is the bright side

So, what's it going to be, o my brothers?

London, end of January. Two days after pay-day and we're already broke. Such, unfortunately, is the way with London. Especially when only one of you is earning, and especially when Doney Casanova is moving back home to Cork tomorrow - that extra £80 in rent came in awful handy.

Still, that's what London is about. By working (or studying) long hours, with a long commute on either side, sometimes at crazy hours, living in a dingy, sometimes dangerous, inner suburb, you're paying for the privilege of being able to say you live in London - even when they've seen the glamour-free zone that is Cricklewood, everyone sees in their mind's eye images of Big Ben, the Eye, painfully hip bars, clothes, lifestyles, poses. It's all about attittoood.

And when you consider that the average person my age in Britain owes £3,000+ on their credit card, our level of indebtedness and our frugal circumstances aren't that bad. And I want to, but can't because of the proximity of co-workers, ring up The Special One and cheer about my £1,000 raise, so I'm going to have to do it here. Sure, it's only a grand - an extra £60/ a month after tax, and I haven't done anything to earn it except avoid getting fired - but still, you've got to enjoy the little battles.