Max is feeling somewhat better. He is, at least, relishing his freedom, sitting on my sofa, eating teacups whole. Only Max could needs to be freed from proletariat chains of oppression and unite with his fellow bourgeois against the tyranny of honest labour...
In other news, I've moved into my new flat. Real me, not me and Max me. This could get confusing... A sensible person would make separate posts for these kind of things, but I am no such person! I haven't unpacked, but I've used some boxes to make a table for the TV. I haven't got a TV license, but I'm not using it to watch TV anyway. So you don't need to call the police.
I would have unpacked my books at least, but the bookcase seems wildly unsafe. A mere touch makes it shake violently for up to three-quarters of an hour. It needs tightening, but there appears to be no allen key in the flat. I looked in some drawers. There's a manual for the toaster, which has no features whatsoever, but no allen key. The girlfriend says she has one. She'll lend it to me, she says. I really must get 'round to learning her name.
I need a bathmat though. For the shower. I'll probably get one today. But I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you. I'd probably look at myself in a mirror in a shocked way, and poke at my face. Then spend all your money.