It's another rip-roaring Champions League night, and as such Alex pops round after work to get in the mood. I take it upon myself to cook dinner for the two of us, and for K (who will be getting home later). Alex insists I've never cooked for her properly in the nearly four years we've been friends (I strenuously deny this, but who knows) so I manage to confound her expectations somewhat by cooking up some rather tasty bolognese.
At kick-off time we sit down to watch Chelsea taking on Spartak Moscow, which sees the Blues making what feels like a rare appearance on terrestrial TV. It's also rare that Alex and I are watching a team other than Arsenal these days. Chelsea make light work of Spartak, which is a little disappointing in terms of the contest but great in terms of the team's progression through the group stage.
Alex leaves after the football and K gets home, having a brief Skype chat with her sisters in Bolivia (technology, eh?) which I listen in on while faffing around in the kitchen, washing up.
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