I was going to stay in tonight.
No really, I was.
And then my flatmate, who I love to inifinity and beyond, changed all that when he offered to cook me din-dins.
Initially, I was made up. I'd been at the airport all day and was so tired I could've wept. The thought of cooking did little to lift my heavy, emotionally bereft heart.
'Don't worry, Johnny,' he boomed, 'I'll cook for you. It'll be delicious. I'll knock up something special. Yes! I'll... I'll make you corned beef and chips!'
Needless to say, I'm on my sixth pint and I'm a bit peckish.