Ed is snoring like a wildebeest, so I moved into the spare room. It’s cooler in there anyway, and his snoring is vibrating the walls slightly less.

Unfortunately, the spare room shares a wall and window space with Drunk Betty. At the moment, she is tanked out of her mind, listening to Old Man River, and singing along in her drunken, monotone drawl. Whe she’s not singing, she’s telling Admiral Ackbar that the song in question is about slavery, and as such, isn’t very funny. She’s a walking history lesson, that one.

Also, she’s lived here for thirteen years.

No sleep for me, I reckon.