he needed killin' your honour

Back in the days of the dinosaurs before computers made everything fast and efficient, I used to go directly to the post-office to fill out a big sturdy postcard-sized form that let them know that all mail to my old address was to be temporarily delivered to my shiny new address instead. This form was then shuffled off to a back office where it was ignored about 50% of the time. Occasionally, I can only assume through some form of user error, some of my mail would actually arrive at my new apartment.

In the modern world, I fill out out my request on an web page, which insists that the old address cannot be changed because it does not exist. I go to the post-office which no longer wastes time with the old forms and instead requires a staff member to fill in the information on the exact same website, which also tells her the address does not exist. Then I spend two days trying to get past the AI that provides customer support, most of that time listening to a recorded message telling me that service would be faster and easier if I used the website.

This is what is known as progress.

***

Banks and lawyers are also being a pain. Took a week of nagging to get the lawyer to sort out the last of the mortgage funds. And then the bank put a hold on a certified cheque. Whatever. It's sorted now, and my contractor has the cheque to get started on fixing the brickwork on the back of the house.

***

Ex-housemate sent a message that they would be coming to town to pack up their stuff on Tuesday. The plan was to spend the day packing and fitting whatever they could into their storage unit, spend the night in an AirBnB, and then leave Wednesday with the first carload. Or so they said.

So when housemate hadn't shown up by late Tuesday afternoon, I figured they had decided to punt it to another day. I was just finishing up my dinner when the doorbell rang. "I'm just picking up a couple of things now, I'll be back when [partner] goes to bed, she goes to bed early and then I'll start running things up to the storage locker." Yeah OK, not how I would have done it but whatever. Not my circus.

Sirs Madams and Gentlethems, when they said, "She goes to bed early," I figured maybe 8? 9? I did not expect them to show up at my house close to midnight.

Whatever fuck you I'm going to bed I have to work in the morning. They then spent the next three hours dragging things around the house with accompanying door slamming and crashing. At one point around 2 AM they dropped something so loudly I heard the neighbours get up to find out what the hell was going on. I went down stairs long enough suggest that I might help them if they wanted to do it during the day time but they just growled at me so I said fine, fuck it, went back to bed.

The next day they came back to the house, ate the last of their food that had been left in the fridge, packed up poopy cat and left.

So far I have discovered they have buggered off with at least four of my computer cables and they locked the under-the-desk drawers that I don't have the combination for. I also have thrown away almost a full bag of expired food that was stuffed under various pieces of furniture.

They haven't taken everything so at some point I'll get my computer cables back. I've already told them they aren't allowed to do any more packing unsupervised and that does not mean I'll be staying up until 2AM on a worknight, so sort your shit out. Shitting hell.

Elderly Gentleman cat is quite perturbed by the entire thing and has been glued to my side. But he got to sleep upstairs with me for the first time in years, so I think he'll settle in OK.