Six months on

Well I have been sadly neglecting this blog. Sorry. Not intentional but I've been doing other stuff (assignments and reading for my Masters, reading for fun, and rehearsals for the amateur dramatic society I decided to join in a moment of pure insanity). So six months on is everything in the flat all lovely?

Since my last posting, nothing has really changed in the flat (things that didn't work still don't, things that might have been working now probably don't). I've gone from writing cross emails about it to being resigned about the situation. There are only so many times that you can ask for someone stop water coming through the living room wall. However I have said on Twitter and to people I know that are thinking of renting, not to use our lettings agent and mentioned the treatment (or lack of) we've had. So yet again I will be looking for somewhere to live this summer, me and my bookcases.

In the meantime I'll be working on my dissertation. My plan is to write one on libraries and librarians in contemporary fiction - although at present I am still working on my proposal. I have never had to write a dissertation before and am feeling more than slightly intimidated. When I was in the first year of my Masters the dissertation was aeons away - I could barely see it, and so it didn't worry me at all. Now it is here and the final term finishes in six weeks. It is only after the end of term that the proposal is due - and although we will have supervisory meetings, we won't actually have that much contact with anyone. I am already nervous and I know that I am not the only one. I am not sure if this is a comfort or not tbh.

So think of me, writing these two final assignments, then facing the monumental dissertation. It'll be fine, I know it will, but atm my brain is having a problem accepting it.

Moved in

...well after the rather long pause between blog postings, I can safely report that neither my bookcases nor I became homeless.

Not that the move has been the painless and smooth transition that I in my naivety hoped for. This may have been due to my new Landlord departing for sunnier climes (Dubai) or the influence of my new Lettings Agents (usual helpful phrase: 'It's nothing to do with us').

So I, and my fellow flatmates are installed in what was, according to the Landlord, a flat suitable for 'Professionals'. I am not entirely sure what type of 'Professionals' they had in mind but there was a red light in one of the rooms... This flat used to be rented out to Students and has since been done up, had a new bathroom installed, been repainted and made appropriate for its new occupants. I might be being a little picky, but I would have thought that the new brand bathroom shouldn't have a broken bath panel and maybe they could have removed the labels from all the new bathroom suite...

Perhaps they could have finished plastering and painting the ceiling in the hallway and installing the wiring. Atm there is a security light hanging from the ceiling, not actually attached, and no bulb in the light fitting - we don't know if the wiring is finished, and can't reach it anyway. This isn't actually a big problem. The water is.

We have water coming in underneath the windowsills. My flatmate had it coming in her ceiling after a particularly heavy rainstorm - and only after threatening the Lettings Agents with the CAB and Media exposure managed to get them to send someone to fix it. We now notice that there are water stains on most of the ceilings. Apparently the roof on my flatmate's part of the flat needs replacing. I suspect that this won't happen and that the temporary patch will remain in place for the duration of our rental.

There are other problems - many of which have been fixed by either my Dad (thanks Dad) or my flatmate's husband (thanks Nigel). This isn't really the point. The Lettings Agent have repeatedly told us that they didn't realise the state of the flat when they took it over. Surely they should have done a proper check? The flat could be absolutely lovely, and the improvements that we have made to it in the month that we have been here - tho only cosmetic - have made a real difference. We get on as flatmates and we want to stay here. We just want the Lettings Agents to get the mess sorted. Sadly they don't seem to be willing to do this.

The Search Goes On...

So in the last few weeks I have been searching for a new home. I am getting rather better at translating room adverts - single (box room), small double (single), double (single but we've crammed a double bed in though don't expect to be able to tread on the floor or open the bedroom door properly).

I've met a variety of prospective landlords and landladies, and been given lists of rules by some even before I've seen the rooms. Others have said how lovely all their tenants have found their places - this while I am looking at filthy curtains, trying to avoid wrinkling my nose up at the stale smell of smoke and wondering what on earth I've just trodden in.

Admittedly I come with baggage. Well, furniture to be precise. I'm looking for a room that is big enough to house me, my two bookcases and my desk (as well as the usual bedroom furniture). So far I've only found two rooms that could do so. One had a cat (I'm allergic), the other needed someone to move in immediately (I need to move at the start of July).

Am rather hoping that one of the places I've asked about this week might prove to be my new home. Let's face it - it would be a shame to make bookcases homeless. Maybe I should try and reside in a library?

Good morning

For some reason my brain associates even the tiniest amount of daylight with morning. This is why I have been awake around 5 o'clock every morning for the last few weeks. While I am an early starter (by 9 p.m I tend to be fading fast - if watching TV you can find me drifting off in front of Midsomer Murders, though maybe that says more about my viewing habits than anything else), this is far earlier than I really want to be up.

I've tried eye masks - very claustrophobic and I have a tendency to fling them off in my sleep which makes it pointless wearing them. I've tried sleeping with the duvet over my head, which is far too hot. The only other thing I can think of trying is black out blinds - but as I am moving flats soon, it seems a bit pointless to do something for a month or so and then have to do it again.

In the meantime I shall just attempt to not fall asleep on my keyboard...zzz

Changes afoot

I will soon be leaving the sunny climes of Elephant and Castle, heading for the somewhat different Bromley. This is going to as much of a culture shock as moving to Elephant was when I arrived here five years ago from the Home Counties. While I will miss Elephant, my landlord is moving on and I am taking the opportunity to move nearer work and thus rid myself of the half hour twice daily commute.

On a similar subject, I am going to be updating this blog more often, but with shorter (more pertinent? possibly) entries. It may also undergo some cosmetic changes. You have been warned.

Meanwhile I am casting my bread upon the waters - or rather waiting to find out if any of the rooms I have emailed about are a) still available b) if available - are they ok? c) or do potential new flatmates just not want me? Images of Shallow Grave go through my head...

Merry Christmas

I love Christmas. I like buying people presents. There is something exciting about trying to match a person to a gift and vice versa. Somehow I can't imagine being one of those people who ends up panic buying on Christmas Eve and getting everyone something grotty from the local garage. Gifts don't have to be expensive, they just have to mean something. At the moment I'm listening to Christmas music on the radio, I've been writing cards and I've wrapped presents. I love Christmas songs, but I have friends who, at a party the other day, ran out of the room rather than hear any Christmas music. That's it though, I don't have a problem with Christmas - from Cliff's Mistletoe and Wine to O Holy Night, from Last Christmas to O Come All Ye Faithful, it is fantastic, especially when you consider that the whole thing started with one baby in a manger in Bethlehem - and that gets forgotten too often in the rush for presents, partying, if X Factor will be no. 1, if the turkey is big enough and the 101 other things that people worry about at Christmas.

So enjoy the run up to Christmas, and if you can, go to a church and just stop for a moment. Amid the rush and bustle, have a look at the nativity scene, and just remember that all of this is because of that small child.

If you can, go to a service. If you can't, just remember that small child. He certainly remembers you

Merry Christmas.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

I like the idea of winter. Cold days curled up by the fire, looking out at the snow. Huddled in warm gloves and thick wool coats against the frosty air. However that is assuming that you can actually tell what the temperature is going to be.

At present I end up layering myself until I look like the Michelin man (or woman) then finally reach the outside world - after almost rolling downstairs as the many layers make me so wide that actually being able to see my feet enough to walk down the stairs is a physical feat too far - only to find that the weather is actually springlike. Not that I am complaining. I would just like to know where I stand, as I am aware that if I don't wear the layers, by the time I reach my office which is in the neighbouring county, I could be experiencing freezing fog and might regret not wearing those thermal longjohns.

Surely if December - February are technically winter then they should be guaranteed maximum and minimum temperatures. They should only be permitted certain types of weather, and no rain should be allowed during the day. In fact come to think of it, that there should be a no rain rule for all seasons apart from Autumn - mists and mellow fruitfulness? Hah! Anyway at least we would then know exactly where we were with the weather and would be able to go out bundled up, to throw our scarves round the (lack of) necks of the snowmen we have made and catch colds if we want to. After all it is our right. This is what the British winter is meant to be - it shows it on all the Christmas cards. Show me a Christmas card that has grey pavements and rain? No?

Christmas is snow. Despite not, within my admittedly faulty memory, ever experiencing a white one, I am hoping to this year :)