Do Not Want!

I don't feel like going back to work after a week off (even if it was unpacking). I need a week away from work to get over my week away from work...

More to the point, I need to develop a new work morning routine. There is no longer a kettle in the computer room, so I can't wake up and make a coffee without swinging downstairs. That said, it's only one flight of stairs to the kitchen now. Unlike the old place, the Carpathia doesn't have sinks in every room, so it isn't really feasible to bring a kettle up here either.

The upshot is that I have eaten breakfast standing in the kitchen, but come back upstairs with my coffee. I need to polish this routine; maybe change it around a little.

It needs work.

Do Not Want!

I don't feel like going back to work after a week off (even if it was unpacking). I need a week away from work to get over my week away from work...

More to the point, I need to develop a new work morning routine. There is no longer a kettle in the computer room, so I can't wake up and make a coffee without swinging downstairs. That said, it's only one flight of stairs to the kitchen now. Unlike the old place, the Carpathia doesn't have sinks in every room, so it isn't really feasible to bring a kettle up here either.

The upshot is that I have eaten breakfast standing in the kitchen, but come back upstairs with my coffee. I need to polish this routine; maybe change it around a little.

It needs work.

Utilities

I continue to be impressed and annoyed by utility companies’ abilities to squeeze money out of people for no effort on their (the companies’) part.

Before I left the SS Carpathia this morning, the mail arrived: one from British Gas, addressed to the ‘Occupier’ and one from British Telecom addressed to me. I opened the first by accident – I normally leave the gas and electric bills to Furtle as my heart cannot take the strain in a regular basis – and see that it is a demand for yet more money. Luckily in this instance, it seems to be for the period before we moved in, so it is for the landlord to deal with, but really!

The Telecom bill warrants further inspection and investigation. I had understood the line rental to be about £10.75 a month. The bill is for a little more than that and includes an element for advance charges. It is not extortionate, but there is a line for equipment rental, which is a little rich since the phone we have is mine and the phone we have coming is already bought and paid for. A careful read to see if a (hah!) phone call is warranted, I think.

Just to add to the fun, Three Valleys Water have jumped on the bandwagon and sent me a demand (not unreasonable, but poorly timed) for the entire year’s water rate, which they are happy to take off me in two indigestible chunks of over £150 each. At least that, upon further inspection, can be turned into equal monthly payments by direct debit. That reminds me, I must remember to cancel the existing direct debit for the old place tonight.

I’m never going to be rich, but I think I am beginning to understand genteel poverty!

Utilities

I continue to be impressed and annoyed by utility companies’ abilities to squeeze money out of people for no effort on their (the companies’) part.

Before I left the SS Carpathia this morning, the mail arrived: one from British Gas, addressed to the ‘Occupier’ and one from British Telecom addressed to me. I opened the first by accident – I normally leave the gas and electric bills to Furtle as my heart cannot take the strain in a regular basis – and see that it is a demand for yet more money. Luckily in this instance, it seems to be for the period before we moved in, so it is for the landlord to deal with, but really!

The Telecom bill warrants further inspection and investigation. I had understood the line rental to be about £10.75 a month. The bill is for a little more than that and includes an element for advance charges. It is not extortionate, but there is a line for equipment rental, which is a little rich since the phone we have is mine and the phone we have coming is already bought and paid for. A careful read to see if a (hah!) phone call is warranted, I think.

Just to add to the fun, Three Valleys Water have jumped on the bandwagon and sent me a demand (not unreasonable, but poorly timed) for the entire year’s water rate, which they are happy to take off me in two indigestible chunks of over £150 each. At least that, upon further inspection, can be turned into equal monthly payments by direct debit. That reminds me, I must remember to cancel the existing direct debit for the old place tonight.

I’m never going to be rich, but I think I am beginning to understand genteel poverty!

I can see through space and time, but my eyelids defeat me...

Ah, mes enfants, plus ça change.

Either the office thermostat or my internal one is broken. I am hot. Not boiling hot, but I should be far happier if I were a few degrees cooler. The upshot is that it is business as usual: I managed to answer a couple of Parliamentary Questions this morning, trailed through my accumulated emails from the past week and then nearly dozed off over lunch. I am almost, but not quite at that stage where extravagant eye-rolling is called for to try to stop the closing of the eye, the drooling of the mouth and the snoring of the tonsil.

In short, I am this close¹ to doing a Homer Simpson in the office.

I think I slept alright last night, but the Tube journey in was a dozer and this afternoon is very much advanced in that direction, too. Even copious quantities of coffee (instant, I'm afraid; maybe I should invest in a cafetiere?) are barely up top the task of defeating the gravitational pull on my eyelids.

Luckily, it being a Monday, I am accustomed to clearing off home shortly after four in the afternoon as it is games night. Maybe I can catch a few moments' kip before people turn up expecting me to run some Cthulu for them.

Had I remembered to pick up the documentation this morning, I could have taken a wander across to the bank to register a change of address at lunchtime. That may have woken me up a bit; blown the cobwebs away. Still, I can do that tomorrow when the early finish is less likely.

I need a divertissement. Any ideas, O world of LJ?


¹You'll have to work with me here. I don't know how to type a tiny gap between index finger and thumb, so you'll just have to imagine it.

I can see through space and time, but my eyelids defeat me...

Ah, mes enfants, plus ça change.

Either the office thermostat or my internal one is broken. I am hot. Not boiling hot, but I should be far happier if I were a few degrees cooler. The upshot is that it is business as usual: I managed to answer a couple of Parliamentary Questions this morning, trailed through my accumulated emails from the past week and then nearly dozed off over lunch. I am almost, but not quite at that stage where extravagant eye-rolling is called for to try to stop the closing of the eye, the drooling of the mouth and the snoring of the tonsil.

In short, I am this close¹ to doing a Homer Simpson in the office.

I think I slept alright last night, but the Tube journey in was a dozer and this afternoon is very much advanced in that direction, too. Even copious quantities of coffee (instant, I'm afraid; maybe I should invest in a cafetiere?) are barely up top the task of defeating the gravitational pull on my eyelids.

Luckily, it being a Monday, I am accustomed to clearing off home shortly after four in the afternoon as it is games night. Maybe I can catch a few moments' kip before people turn up expecting me to run some Cthulu for them.

Had I remembered to pick up the documentation this morning, I could have taken a wander across to the bank to register a change of address at lunchtime. That may have woken me up a bit; blown the cobwebs away. Still, I can do that tomorrow when the early finish is less likely.

I need a divertissement. Any ideas, O world of LJ?


¹You'll have to work with me here. I don't know how to type a tiny gap between index finger and thumb, so you'll just have to imagine it.