Between the sheets

Doing laundry on a Sunday is poor time management, since about 600 teenagers will be queueing with their heaped baskets redolent of lentils and Union sweat. Not to mention that laundry is £3, so you want to wait until you can cram the drum to bursting first.

(Yes, now the billable days on my calendar number just 3 a month I’m finally getting the economics of student life. My days of “Oooh, what a nice £150 T-shirt, I think I’ll buy it” are truly over. I mean, THREE WHOLE QUID FOR LAUNDRY? Damn evil thieving laundrette operators!!)

So I face that age-old student dilemma: if a lady’s visiting your student room, is it OK to not change the sheets first?

I mean, everything else is in place. Wine in fridge, check. Clean glasses, check. (Yup, my Oakleys are unsmudged.) iCradleful of Velvet Underground, check. In the bathroom cupboard – well, let’s not go there. (Until 10pm or so, anyway.)

She won’t mind about month-old cottonware will she? I mean, what’s going on on top of her is surely superior to whatever’s underneath.

(And IF my block subwarden is reading this: SHE’LL BE LEAVING BEFORE MIDNIGHT, ITALIAN POSTER GIRL!)

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