Having dragged myself out of bed, the sudden rush of daylight to my eyes caused me to feel faint and I had to go back to bed for a few hours. I think eight weeks of hard work are catching up with me.   I was forced to get up and leave the flat by a dearth of yoghurt in the flat. This would not, under normal circumstances, be a suitable imperative but if we wanted curry (and we wanted curry) we needed yoghurt. As it happens, the shopping spree was most fruitful - the quest for the duvet cover is over. It has taken ten weeks and numerous visits to department stores around Oxford, but I now have a plain white single duvet cover. All things considered, it probably wasn't worth the wait. I bought it at Littlewoods because Littlewoods is one of the few department stores that doesn't change its layout on a daily basis to confuse shoppers. This means that I don't always accidentally stumble into the lingerie section. I am beginning to suspect that lingerie sections seek me out, and carefully position themselves so that I walk into them and end up feeling like a dirty old man, surrounded by bras, panties and other items, usually involving lace . Sometimes lingerie sections work in tandem with perfumeries, so that the only way to avoid getting lost amidst racks of stockings is to suffocate in the hellish atmosphere of 75% nitrogen, 25% Hugo Boss.   Sarah Lee turned up this morning, offering to get us tickets to see Tomorrow Never Dies, the new James Bond film. We gave her our student cards, so that she could get us student prices. Unfortunately, she neglected to return them. Chris had gone over to Sarah's for dinner (this lack of Chris in the flat is becoming commonplace - I like to think I have not so much lost a flatmate as gained a games room), and we expected him to return with them before we went to Fifth Avenue, since we wouldn't get in without them. He didn't. We eventually found the pair of them at a party in another flat, where I had to explain our predicament to a drunken Miss Lee and obtain our cards.   Fifth Avenue was its usual self - dark, smoky, filled with sweaty bodies and loud, thumping music. All the ingredients of a good night out, then. I left early.   Today's advent calendar image: snowman.
			The characters and situations in this diary are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings. Any resemblance to such things is coincidental, or just for humourous effect. All names have been chosen to implicate the innocent.