I didn`t. At least not initially.  Marc`s `I need people that are going to make me successful and that`s not you` was confirmation enough that I hadn`t.

As my future SW2 self would say… peak times.* So peak in fact I spent several days wallowing in a bain marie of melancholic jus, gorging hysterically on boxed wine, discounted quiche Lorraine and Celine Dion before making the very necessary decision to get the fuck over it.

But who can let such a thing go when the temptation to send a two-finger bitchy whatsapp is RIGHT THERE?! Not I. Not bloody I.

Cue bitchy whatsapp, verbatim:

LP: Wrote this http://laurenpeters.co.uk/blog in which SCA features and also my first err poem https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyB_kyZvA-c. I am by no means thanking you but I suppose your suggestion of spoken word was something of an influence [there was a suggestion of spoken word somewhere down the line]. You`re under no obligation to give a shit of course, but you should. Ok bye.

ML : Really pleased that you shared this with me. I like the energy and confidence. Could make room for a copywriter student if you promise to bottle that energy and bring it to your studies.

LP: Make room and I`m in.

So yes, If anyone knows of any room knocking about South East London that isn’t `Literally Just a Mattress in a Cupboard Under Some Stairs, £1500pcm` I am in need and open to suggestions. I may possibly actually finally be moving out.

*South East London slang for when life throws you crap and everything is just WOOAAAAAH.