I am sorry for the events in London. I am sorry for the impact on the ordinary lives of ordinary people. But I couldn't bear to listen to Tony Blair's staccato delivery and empty words. I felt better listening to Ken Livingstone pointing out the impact on working people going about their daily lives. I had to turn off the radio listening to that unspeakable Bush pontificating on innocent lives. How many innocents have died in Iraq this year alone?
Moving is hell. I think this may have been the worst. But the worst is over and I am sitting typing this looking out at the grass and the sea and the lighthouse. Some children are playing football on the grass. It rained heavily last night but when I got up I could see the clouds moving out to sea.
My step-son helped me move most of the small stuff on Monday and Tuesday. I had the kitchen sorted - so important. The removal men - 3 men and a van came on Wednesday. Well, two boys and an idiot would be more descriptive. Two backpackers from Yorkshire and Mexico. The so-called boss was a poor supervisor. He gave them confusing directions and they were painfully slow. The van wasn't big enough, they damaged my table, they took hours more than they should.
Then my washing machine wouldn't fit through the door to the laundry. Call to agent. Then the cable service turned out not to be fitted in the building. Which means a 6 week wait for broadband access. And the lift broke down. Fortunately no-one was in it but I became an amateur lift technician with the lift company talking me through how to lower the lift manually by turning the hydraulic dial. This lift serves only my apartment and opens directly into the living area - very James Bond groovy bachelor pad.
The agent and owner turned out to be good sorts. The owner is buying and fitting a new washing machine for me, he sent someone over to install satellite tv temporarily till the cable gets sorted and offered me a substantial rent reduction until it is fixed. I accepted, of course.
The cats are getting over their trauma of being moved and examining their new territory. They have taken over the laundry sink (currently full of unwashing dirty clothes) as their den whenever they feel nervous.
I went to the enormous Ikea at Homebush yesterday. I came back with the things on my list and only two things that weren't. Drawer dividers and a stand to elevate tins in my pantry so I can see what is at the back. Ikea is a shocking place for the impulse buy so I think I escaped lightly.
I have made an enemy of one of my neighbours. I temporarily blocked her access to her garage and she was very rude to me even though I apologised politely and explained that I was new to the building and hadn't realised that was her access route. She was a complete cow but I am not going to waste time my energy on her.
Like I am not going to waste my energy on Telstra and Foxtel who have the worst call centre staff in the world. Now I know that call centres are the sweat shops of the 21st century. And I know that they are badly paid. But they have no problem solving skills at all. None. And when he started telling me "our policy..." I pointed out that policies are not rules and that he was interpreting policy in a particular way that I knew to be incorrect. I had to say I was going to hang up so I didn't throw the phone out the window. If they had a shop front I would be down there complaining in my best grumpy old lady fashion. That's Monday's problem.
I loved sitting in the dark last night watching the lighthouse beam move around.
When I find my camera I will post some photos.
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