Yearly Archives: 2002

How long does it take to get a water boiler fixed?!

Seven days it took my estate agent to get their shit together and get a company round to fix it. I’ve ended up with the worst cold I’ve had for ages and spent three days sitting in the house waiting for a guy to come and fix it.

When that guy finally showed up it was a half hour job. Seven days to do a half hour job – what the heck is that all about?!

And the thing about waiting in all day – that drives me nuts. It’s almost certain that with the telephone company, gas company, electricity company or given repair man you can wait in for day after day and then you pop out for three minutes because you’ve run out of stuff to live on. And when you get back you find a note saying “Sorry, we called while you were out…” Aaaaarrghh!

To me it’s obvious that a decent reliable service from these people – so that they turn up during the hour they said they would, or at least give a call to keep you informed, would be invaluable and build a great reputation.

Maybe being reliable and prompt would get in the way of sand-bagging and stringing jobs out for more of a pay cheque, though. Wow, am I getting cynical…

Monday started out the way most Mondays do – into the office, check the mail, have a coffee, pick around for simple things to do until I’m fully awake; that kind of thing.

Lunchtime came and went as usual before the studio manager asked if I’d do a mercy dash to the London studio to deliver a package. Since I knew where the studio was, and I knew London well, I became the top candidate for the job.

With a couple of minutes to decide whether I wanted to go or not, I hardly had time to think before I was delivered to the station and sitting in first class, bound for London Euston! Mental stuff if you ask me – kind of wicked too, with all the recent turmoil I needed something a bit unusual to happen.

I spent Monday night in O’Neills just off Leicester Square with my cousin Iain and good friend Ian “The Bin Man” Binnie. It wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing on that particular Monday night, but it sure beat moping around the house feeling miserable and unwanted.

Sadly Fliss had some bad news the same day – one of the directors of her company died of a heart attack at the weekend. He was a nice guy and had been the type that goes for a drink after work rather than slinking off to a country retreat somewhere – that kind of thing.

From the phone conversation I could tell she was upset about it and even after recent events I really wanted to be there to comfort her at the time. Not sure what I could have said or done, but although I was having fun with good company I would have been there for her in an instant if I could have been.

Fliss finally came home today, and brought with her the news that our relationship was over. Not that I really needed telling – I had kind of worked it out for myself, but official confirmation is always required in these situations, just so you know where you stand.

Now, supposedly, I can get on with re-building my life. So… clearing out the cobwebs and forging ahead with whatever single folk do would seem to be the obvious priority right now. However, as always with my life, there’s an entertaining punchline.

In a plot straight out of Friends, Fliss and I are going to continue living together!

Oh yes! – Sending the weird-shit-o-meter farther off the scale than I expected it to go, we’re going to stay in seperate rooms and struggle along until… well, I’m not sure how this one will turn out. Heck, at this point in time I should probably be discussing it over coffee with Joey and Chandler down at Central Perk!

The irony is that we’d always prided ourselves in the fact that our relationship was different from folk like her mother and father. Now here we are – financially trapped in the same house, living in seperate rooms. It has a ring to it somehow.

Oh, and Fate – you have a bitch of a sense of humour. Thanks for this – fuckyouverymuch!