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And So It Begins Again

Well, we are all moved in to our new place. Or at least we have stuff piled high all over the living room floor, and I’m still not quite sure when and how I acquired all this stuff and whether we really need it, but the hard part is over. Or so I thought.

The other day, I had a strange sense of deja vu as I listened to the bloke at London Energy explain to me that there is no electricity meter inside our new flat–the meter registered for our address is apparently half way down the street, so the one that can clearly be seen above the bathroom door must be just a figment of my deranged imagination. Someone might call me back, if they feel like it.

And then this morning I waited for the BT engineer to turn up to activate our land line. Luckily I got fed up waiting fairly early on, because when I phoned up to check on progress, it turned out that the promised engineer had not in fact been booked at all, and we may now be without a phone for the next week (some time later, when I managed to speak to someone who seemed to know what they were doing, he said to me: “well, it’s just as well you phoned us–your account was marked ‘waiting for customer'”).

Screams.

Bangs head against brick wall.

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