This week I have been off work. Claire has been in work. Therefore, I have spent a lot of time on my own, moping around indoors. It is much stranger being on your own in a house than a small flat, where I used to live.

We still haven’t got a sofa yet, so I have been watching TV from the dining room table, on uncomfortable hardback chairs. My viewing has been mostly rubbish from the hundreds upon thousands of channels on Sky, although primarily I’ve had Storage Wars on. In sofa news, it is supposed to be delivered tomorrow, when I am back in work. I am optimistic, but be prepared for a blog, unleashing the bowels of bloody hell if it does not turn up.

Every male in the country, in fact the world, has been playing Grand Theft Auto 5 this week. Even starving kids in Africa managed to get themselves a copy. They traded in a goat at a local Games Station. I have been no exception. My copy dropped through the letterbox on Tuesday, along with a new television to play it on. The TV has been placed in the box bedroom upstairs, where no doubt sounds of gunshot, screeching tyres and various explosions have been heard for the past few days. I haven’t actually played it that much this week, despite my annual leave. When GTA4 came out some years ago, I would return from work at 5pm and play into the early hours of the morning, only stopping to eat or shit, often tactfully timing bowel movements to coincide with meals, so I could eat and relieve myself at the same time. It probably wasn’t the healthiest of things to do across an entire month, but I managed complete every mission and kill every pigeon, successfully joining the 100 Club. While I very much like GTA5, it doesn’t have the same excitement or addictiveness of its predecessor. The one thing which makes GTA5 better for me, is now I have a real-life driving licence, so I can appreciate the driving a lot more. I understand how that may come across as rather worrying.

Last week I blogged about Half-Job Wankers who never finish a basic task. The Sky box is still without telephone, although we’ve kind of given up on that and opted to order the channels through the website. The grass is yet to be cut. I don’t think it will be now as we don’t own a lawnmower. I am waiting until a neighbour complains about it, or a pride of lions take up residence in the vast savannah, before I start to worry. Technically that makes me a Half-Job Wanker. Oh, and most importantly, the smoke alarms have finally been fitted, by a nice chap called Jim.