Some reasons why moving house has aged me radically:
- letting agents’ bizarre notions of “luxury”, “spacious” and “habitable by human beings”
- IKEA’s inability to realise that the UK has different size mattresses to the rest of Europe, and for their stock control system that suggested a delivery lead time of 150 weeks for a foot stool
- Microsoft – for making the cancellation of an Xbox Live account incredibly painful. You can manage everything else online, but to do this simple task you have to ring up and answer a bunch of questions about why you’d want to terminate this important relationship
- poodles
- BT being BT, thus being incapable of operating a simple online account management system. They have my address and account number wrong, and any attempt to change them is met with a “temporarily unavailable” message (just as it has been for the last six months)
- the flammable nature of gas combined with a lack of instructions for our massive oven.
But now we’re in. In a few days we’ll have a lovely big bed, a studio/office type-thing in which doctoring and designing can be merrily done, and a bath. A lovely lovely bath.
