Notes from the big smoke
So, I'm one week into the job. It's been okay... What with a one hour communte either side (soon to be truncated to a nicer sized half hour) of the 9-6 hours I haven't had much time for anything really, aside from worrying about all the stuff I need to do and still haven't.
I somehow managed to sort a flat out though. Thanks to me brilliantly understanding boss, I managed to take Wednesday off to go flat hunting. The landlords I've finally decided to rent from operate out the back of a hardware store, reassuringly enough, but at £80 a week for my teeny-tiny-no-bigger-than-your-thumb-Vauxhall-bedsit I guess I can't complain. I was put forward to them by an Oxford Street based agent who, if I was going to make a film of my last week (which is, I think, a tad unlikely) would ideally be played by Bob Hoskins. Bob Hoskins with a dodgy combover, to be exact.
One of the other flats I visited was owned by an Italian gentleman who didn't show up when I came to look around. When I phoned him up to ask where he had been he claimed he'd already been and gone because I wasn't there. When I protested that I'd been standing there for 10 minutes he got inexplicably angry and shouted "WHEN I SAY QUATER PAST ONE, I MEAN QUATER PAST ONE NOT LATER" and then hung up on me. I think, all things considered, I'm quite pleased he isn't my landlord.
And with that I'm off for a while. In this case, a while means at least 3 months. If I can still be bothered with Livejournal on the other side (when I have the internet back) I'll see you then. I'm about to go internet cold turkey, which could prove tricky because I don't think I've been without regular net access since I was around 13. :(
I somehow managed to sort a flat out though. Thanks to me brilliantly understanding boss, I managed to take Wednesday off to go flat hunting. The landlords I've finally decided to rent from operate out the back of a hardware store, reassuringly enough, but at £80 a week for my teeny-tiny-no-bigger-than-your-thumb-Vauxhall-bedsit I guess I can't complain. I was put forward to them by an Oxford Street based agent who, if I was going to make a film of my last week (which is, I think, a tad unlikely) would ideally be played by Bob Hoskins. Bob Hoskins with a dodgy combover, to be exact.
One of the other flats I visited was owned by an Italian gentleman who didn't show up when I came to look around. When I phoned him up to ask where he had been he claimed he'd already been and gone because I wasn't there. When I protested that I'd been standing there for 10 minutes he got inexplicably angry and shouted "WHEN I SAY QUATER PAST ONE, I MEAN QUATER PAST ONE NOT LATER" and then hung up on me. I think, all things considered, I'm quite pleased he isn't my landlord.
And with that I'm off for a while. In this case, a while means at least 3 months. If I can still be bothered with Livejournal on the other side (when I have the internet back) I'll see you then. I'm about to go internet cold turkey, which could prove tricky because I don't think I've been without regular net access since I was around 13. :(