Breakfast the One-Hundred-and-Fortieth

Cinnamon & raisin bagel with raspberry jam and smoothie.

I have once again begun the hunt for a flat mate. I'm sure it will all work out, once I've sifted out applications from 22-year-olds, middle-aged perverts and hippies.

There's nothing like a name like Leaf to fill you with visions of some greasy-haired beatnik moving in and trying to persuade you to start wearing clothing weaved out of reclaimed plug-hole hair.