Earlier this week, Gilly suddenly announced she was going to Rome in fifteen hours because she didn't have to wait for anymore faxes and then she would actually get a holiday. I was impressed.

"That's possibly more spontaneous that me. Even taking Dundee into account."
"Yes, but I don't have any exams."
"Fair point."
"I do start my course in about a week though..."

So that night found me, Ali and Mike standing on the doorstep saying bye to Gilly. Saying bye actually means a) Gilly explaining that she couldn't take any pictures because she hadn't been able to find her camera, which has gone awol, b) realising she didn't have her hat so Mike running upstairs to get it for her, returning and placing it on the top of her head so it sat in such a way that she had to tilt her head upwards to see and she couldn't put it on properly as she was carrying stuff c) Ali and me being in complete hysterics over Gilly and the hat, more so when Gilly tried to follow a conversation between her dad and Mike, which meant looking upwards and turning her head between the two, almost as if she was watching tennis. Attempting to wave Gilly off whilst you are practically crying with laughter is not easy.

The next day Mike went home.

That means there is only me and Ali in the house. A six bedroom house. Left on our own to go mad from filling out the endless application forms. The problem is we are very much aware that by the end of this month the house will be full, there will be six people living in this house and it will suddenly feel very very small. And whilst it remains me and Ali, I can at least turn my music up loud, which can only be a good thing.