Friday, 27 July 2018

I'll Never Move Again. (Not least because I assaulted a worker.)

So we've moved. Again. Bit of a SNAFU with the lease on the old property, but we were looking to move anyway, so...........

You'd think after the massive downsizing I did last year, when I gave away or sold most of my earthly possessions, it would be a lot easier. Admittedly, although it's a relative doddle, since I didn't have to itemize every box and apply for a TOR (Transfer of Residence) number, but it's still a pain in the proverbial. 

Despite resolutions to be more organised in this house, there are still lone items being bunged into drawers, resulting in three drawers now looking like they're once again, the "Messy drawer". Three! And there's not even any order to those three - surely one should be for paperwork, one should be for, Oooh I dunno, stamps and staplers etc, and another one for bin bags? Oh no, that would be far too organised. Our three are currently for anything and everything. I keep saying I will go back and re-sort them once I come up for air, but who am I kidding? Six months from now I will still have to look in all three for a first class stamp.

I also lost my new debit card, the day after it was issued. Annoyingly, my only UK card was slapped with a fraud alert the day before we moved, even though I verified every payment and they couldn't tell me what the alert was about. Fortunately it arrived at our old place as we were pulling off for a new life, quarter of a mile down the road, so no harm done. Last night I suddenly realised I had no idea where it was. Scoured the possibilities, handbag, messy drawers and pocket of loose linens worn yesterday. (You know it's how when I break out the dreaded linens.)

Just happened to mention it to one of the workers here, this morning. (Because yes, moving isn't complicated enough, we have to be dealing with a bathroom gut and refit. Sigh.) Anyway, he immediately said there was a card on my bedroom floor and went off to retrieve. it. Now, he's been here a few days and is a lovely smiley chap, but I'm still not sure how appropriate it was that I clasped his face in both hands and planted a giant smackeroony on the side of his face!!!

Is that workplace harassment? HIs boss was standing right next to him at the time and didn't intervene. Both seemed to find it pretty funny, but I'm now slightly tormented by the fact that I'm a complete hypocrite! Were it the other way round gender-wise, (female worker, male customer), it just wouldn't be right would it? Ugh. Another thing to lose sleep over. 


  1. I am with you on the never moving again...and don't get me started on the "messy" drawers; I swear if I lived alone there wouldn't be ANY!


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