I’ve previously mentioned this is in the works – here goes!
Real life hit rather hard last Thursday. (Was it really more than a week ago? I wouldn’t normally go back that far in time, but this is too real to let go.) Following Knit-Sock and and a perfectly ordinary Thursday, Tom and I got home to a pile of post on the floor. Normally we do a quick scan of the post and leave it to the various people who supposedly live here. There are only three people in the flat above, but by the postman’s accounts there are thousands of them. I also had to teach the postman how to read the signs that clearly state that the restaurant is 199, we are 199a and They are 199b. Anyway, I digress.
On this particular Thursday, I spotted a little notice which I have attached for your viewing pleasure. I read it with some amusement at first, thinking that They must have attracted it (they order the most insane amount of stuff. There is a package for them most days). To my horror, I suddenly realised it had “199A” written on it in pencil. Oh. God.
To cut a long story slightly short, Tom and I hastened upstairs to sit down to have a conference of war with the various parents, and check all the bank-accounts and post to ensure it wasn’t for us. The parents didn’t really help in terms of calming – phrases like “don’t let them in, they will steal all your stuff”, “go out NOW and get a chain for your door” “if they try to get in, call the police” weren’t really helping. To make it worse, mum saying “they are bullying thugs”, coupled with the below photo from their website convinced Tom and I that we totally didn’t want to deal with this.
Next day I stayed at home in an effort to make sure that they didn’t come and leave us with a fine (there was something about this on the small-print) and in the end managed to talk to “Steve C”, who turned out to be rather pleasant, and explained that it was for the previous tenants. (Why don’t they TRACK THEM?) Blood-boiling rage aside, I was most pleased that the whole episode was over. I ran in to college to hand in the biggest headache this year, my literature review, and experience the new design for the blogs this year. I’m not going to ruin the surprise, but you’re all gonna love it.
The next real-life thing that took place was my ID card, driving license and card got ‘stolen’ in Bath on a weekend away. This is an annual thing designed to make all the people in Sinfonietta get to know each other. Rehearsals coupled with a night out on the town, and in my case, a lengthy visit to the police station. It was good, though, and my cards got found at the Youth Hostel as I was on the phone to the police explaining how someone had taken my stuff and replaced it with a sweet that I found in my pocket. I was rather inebriated, but I blame a certain friend who I had to help carry home for the ‘loss’, and would like to extend my extreme gratitude to John and Will, for being amazing at Corrie-consolation (Corrielation?). Unfortunately, I managed to cancel my card, and am now lacking money a lot because the new one will go to Devon.
Returning to London on Sunday night, all was well. We went to bed relatively early, and at about 3 AM Tom woke me up with a “something just smashed – has something broken?” I hadn’t heard anything and dismissed his concerns with a “don’t be silly”. About ten minutes later I got woken up AGAIN by a timid knocking on the door. I opened to a John, covered in blood with the most endearing “I have a problem…I need some help”. I think I took his “I just punched the window” fairly in my stride, and all I can say is a) I need to do a first-aid course, and b) John has REALLY bad dreams.
That was a massive “I told you so” from Tom, and Tuesday morning found the glaziers coming to fix it. It took the guy about an hour, and the worry now is that the new pane of glass is so clean that the others all look terrible, haha.
Not much to say about the rest of the week. I spent basically the whole week in bed, with achy skin, achy hair, a temperature for a bit and the most painful cough I’ve had in my life. I hauled myself up on Thursday to try make it to lectures, managed to sit through two hours then bailed and ended up back at home, sleeping away the hours. I did manage to make it to see my parents, mum on Tuesday in the Docklands (“you’re looking pale Corrie, are you eating enough iron?” “Mum, I’m just ill”) for a delicious fish and chips and chocolate tart (not in the same dish haha), and dad on Thursday for some pasta in Bella Italia.
I’m pleased to report that my health is much improved (though the cough remains…anybody any suggestions on how to correct this? My throat is SORE). Tom has gone away for the weekend, John and I are going to Borough Market today, and I’m going to do my absolute best to catch up on everything that I’ve missed out on this week. Lovely.
Ciao for now!