Monday 6th September

The working day starts rudely and in a massive rush as the courier I had booked to collect a package from the office decides to turn up five minutes before I actually arrive there - meaning that not only have I not even prepared said package or found out the address it was going to, but that my poor colleague Jess has to handle the whole thing while I'm still walking to work. Nightmare. Fortunately the rest of the morning is marginally less hectic and I even find time around lunch to head into Wood Green and buy Kick-Ass on Blu-ray, which has just been released today. It's a film both K and I really enjoyed when we were lucky enough to go to a press screening of it in Soho back in February-or-so - but the screening was so far ahead of the film's release that it seems like ages and I can barely remember what actually goes on.

I get home and get dinner sorted before K gets back from work. Having chatted and eaten and whatnot we put on the latest Mad Men (which actually starts showing on BBC this week; hopefully meaning more fans will realise the extent to which the series is getting stronger and stronger all the time) before breaking out the Kick-Ass Blu-ray. As soon as the menu screen comes up I remember everything I had liked about this film - the attention to detail in the music, the irreverent, sweary dialogue and the ballsy, graphic violence. Nicolas Cage is amazing (a rare thing these days) as Big Daddy and Hit-Girl is a brilliantly cartoony character. We watch the film with the lights down and the sound up - and that's really the only way to see a movie like this. What's also fairly great is that it's an almost entirely British movie - based on a UK comics-writer's book, written by a British screenwriter and starring a British actor, albeit playing an American and set in New York City.

I nip out for a cigarette later and am instantly reminded of the man next door - who was found dead in his flat last Tuesday. This is because, for some reason, whoever had been in the flat after his body was removed turned all the lights on - and no one's been back to turn them off. Standing in the garden or even in our kitchen it's obvious that every light in his flat is on, creating a fairly eerie atmosphere and reminding me that while he could have been in there for a long time unnoticed, his flat is impossible to ignore now - at least when it's dark. The seen-too-many-horror-movies part of me expects to see ghostly figures moving around behind the frosted glass of his kitchen window, but it hasn't happened yet.

I'm not sure if there's anyone we can call about it or even if it's a real problem, but I expect someone will have to go back there at some point. In his own way (and not in a hippy, Jesus-y kind of way) I suppose he hasn't quite left yet.