So farewell then...
So much for the forced fast. I just looove cybercafes.
Okayyy. The removal guys turned up today, finally. Yes, I know I shouldn't make too much fuss but I've been stuck in-bloody-doors with no telly, no vids, no DVDs, no 'puter and ridiculously few books, jumping up and running to the door every five minutes because the flat upstairs is being renovated and there is much building overhead and I keep thinking the hammering is someone at the door. There's the tax to be sorted out at the other end, there's my own bank to be convinced that I am who I say I am and that I'm going to be living where I say I'm going to be living. And then there's the cleaning. Oh yes. There's the cleaning. How am I supposed to cope with all this without my Blake's 7 videos, eh? Eh?
Anyway all the stuff is on its way to fresh woods and pastures new*; it only remains for me to scrub the gaff down, phone the leccy people, cut off the telephone, etc. Roll on Saturday.
*No, I haven't got the quote wrong. That is how the quote is s'posed to go. It's everyone else that gets it wrong. So there.