I wish I was Carrie Bradshaw

And yes, the more perceptive reader will now realise that I have spent an entire afternoon immersed in Manhattan culture, otherwise known as DVD box sets.

As of today, I have a new dining table and chairs. The entire room smells of wood and my MacBook looks rather splendid against the grain. I think my new table will be a good place to write. Carrie Bradshaw writes late at night at a desk in her window, overlooking the city. But I bet her desk doesn’t smell like mine. How could it? It’s not real.

How come the couch is always free in Central Perk?

When did you ever walk into Starbucks (other coffee chains are available) and find that it was free? The place is crowded, people are sat at tables but for some reason, nobody has bothered with the super-comfy couch. Hmmmm. Let me think. That would be NEVER. Obtaining the couch in a coffee shop always calls for stealth manoevures. You go in, and you check who’s on it, then you check how full their cups are…anything less than half and there’s a chance it will be free before you finally get served so you keep watching, slipping your coat off so you can bagsy the couch if the lazy gits ever move. Which of course they don’t so then you reach the counter and your purse is on your bag but you can’t look properly because you’re holding your coat and the girl serving tuts and rolls her eyes, meanwhile the bastards on the sofa look like they’re falling into a coma.

You never get the couch in coffee shops. It’s the law.

Unless your name happens to be Monica, Rachel, Chandler, Joey or Ross.