April 6 (tuesday): I might have gone on a date last night. Fortunately there was a gooseberry there to ruin it, so all faux pas for the evening can be blamed on her and her psychosis. Mere minutes after the night was over texts were exchanged and plans plotted for another attempt sans the spare wheel. Maybe it went well after all despite ending up in Chicagos (a notoriously sad Colchester grog hole).