When you’re dealing with my local council, that’s when.
The old bed from our spare room has been gathering dust in the garage until I could be bothered to call the council and ask them to take it away.
I made that call this morning. The woman on the phone explained about how they can only dispose of “three large items, or six small items, or a combination of both” in any three month period. This sounded okay, then she said,
“The base of the bed counts as one large item, and the mattress counts as one large item.”
So, my bed has become officially two large items. She asked if it was a double bed, and I replied, “Yes”. It is in fact a king size, so I hope I don’t use up any of my quota. While I think about it, I took the drawers from the divan out to make it easier to haul downstairs. I wonder if they’ll count them separately? I could put them back in, but the council people will just have to take them out again to take it away, otherwise they’ll roll out.
The woman asked me where I’d leave it. I told her on the driveway. I have visions of my anicent bed being on display, complete with its historical muck. I mean, I never peed the bed or anything, but it’s still quite a feeling of exposure.
* * * * *
You may recall I had put the old mattress on our new bed base. Well, it’s worse. So bad, in fact, that Ginger has let me buy a completely new mattress without so much as a blink. I took him to the bed superstore on the pretence of ‘looking at prices, you know, just to see‘ and we ended up buying a new mattress completely. It’s a good one, thick and luxurious, with a pocket sprung interior. And it was half price *beams* We like ‘half price.’
The new mattress will take two weeks to order. I wonder if it’s a good time to test out the sofa-bed?
It’s early Friday morning, and I am sitting here patiently (read: anxiously) waiting for my new sofa-bed. I am happy with the state of the spare room, even though there is still some stuff around. The big bed is now in the garage, which is the main thing.
By Wednesday evening, I had put a load of stuff in the loft, and I’d moved the mattress off our bed into the garage, and the mattress off the bed in the spare room onto our bed again.
The mattress that was on our bed is five feet wide, and six feet six inches long. It must weigh at least a ton, and has the awkwardness and cumbersome-ness of a corpse (not that I’d know, just watch a lot of “Forensic Detectives” on Discovery) I maneuvered this thing over a bed frame, out onto a tiny landing, down the stairs, out of the front door, along the path and into the garage.
The people that make mattresses put helpful ‘handles’ on the long sides of the mattress, to aid moving. How helpful. Not. If they’d had the presence of mind to put them on the short sides, that would have helped. Instead, I had to grip the edges and pray.
I have decided that talking to mattresses does not help. Neither does cursing, in hindsight, although it felt good at the time. I ended up hating the people that built my house, for putting a ledge on the threshold of my front door, and hating my nice neighbour for not being out and about to help me.
However, all that being said, the mattress is now in the garage, drunkenly snoozing against the wall, and I am happy. I achieved that. I did it. No-one else; and it feels good.
After that, the base of the bed was easy. It was made in two halves, and is a simple pine frame covered in springs and fabric. The fabric is a kind of sateen, and glided down the stairs like Michelle Kwan.
The room looks strange without much in it. I’m left with a sense of abandonment – of being lost, somehow.
Maybe it’s how all the stuff feels. I’ll never find any of it again…
it was a bad idea to use having a sofabed delivered as a reason to make me clean out the spare bedroom.
As I look at the mountain of crap that we have just “shoved in the back bedroom” over the last couple of years, I could cry. I have to clean it out. My Aunt is coming to visit in a couple of weeks, (not sure when) and she needs a place to sleep. I don’t want her to have to sleep on the sofas downstairs, covered in cats. (Although in hindsight, she might like that)
The spare bedroom has slowly morphed into a storage room. Somewhere underneath it all there is a bed, which is a 5′ divan. I suppose if I take that out of the equation, it’s not so bad. However, there is a lot of stuff that I just don’t know what to do with. The obvious answer is shove it in the loft until I can decide.
Yesterday, I spent a couple of hours in the loft, putting new floorboards down, and moving stuff. Yesterday, it was 90° and beautifully sunny, so our loft space was like a sauna. Literally, what with the smell of new chipboard flooring panels. I almost looked for a ladle to sprinkle water over some hot coals…
So, with plenty of breaks in between to check on the state of the housemates in Big Brother, and to whinge to my friends on our private online forum, I managed to move a substantial amount of stuff up there. Given that I only have a basic ladder to get up there, and it’s quite awkward, thankyou, I think I did pretty well. As I decided to stop for the evening, I surveyed the room.
It is still covered in STUFF. Okay, I can see the carpet now, and I know where that quilt cover went, but that’s not the point. I want to see results, dammit!
The sofabed is being delivered on Friday.
I need more guarana. And ginseng. And coffee.
I can’t believe how fast my underarm hair grows. I was blessed with fairly sparse hair in “those areas” and I can let my leg hair grow for weeks and it doesn’t show. However, my underarms are driving me nuts primarily because I either wax or epilate the hairs there.
/pauses for shrieks to die down.
Yes, epilate. I know you’re not supposed to, but if you do it right, and are careful, it really works. I have been doing this for a few years now, and I really don’t think it hurts any more than waxing. Mind it really fucking hurt this morning, simply because of the freaky shoulder spasm thing. My painkillers have helped a hell of a lot, but are making me feel a bit er, reckless.
So, as I reached for the deoderant this morning, I thought, “hmm, de-fuzz required”. The painkillers and muscle relaxants had kicked in, and I felt quite mellow, in an “I can do anything” kind of way. It seemed to go okay – I did my left underarm first, then moved over to the right one. Not too bad – having my arm hoisted high in the air, concentrating on the plucking. The pain started when I tried to move my arm back down to its normal position. Oh. My. God!!!! OWWWWWW!!!! I now feel like I’ve been stabbed in the armpit. Bugger, that hurts.
At least I am hair free for another couple of weeks…
I have been ridiculously quiet lately. I can’t be bothered with anything, and I want to be on my own.
Ginger was offered a temporary job with the company that bought Wankbastard Inc’s stuff, which means that he is away from home Monday through Thursday for four weeks. I want to be sick every time I think about it. He has started already – he drove down over 150 miles to get there yesterday. The company love him – and are paying for accommodation while he is there, plus food etc. Ginger, meanwhile, is busy programming the computer side of the machinery for them, before teaching the staff how to use it.
The upside is that he has work for another month, and we can pay the morgage. The downside is, well, just me. I am literally confined to the house now for four days, and I feel as though I want to pull an invisibility cloak over me and hide. I deliberately didn’t answer the phone yesterday, and I do not intend to answer the door either (unless it is the postman with my new hard-drive).
I have lots of house shit to keep me busy, however. While Ginger worked all those nights, I couldn’t do very much around the house in case I woke him up. While he’s out, I can get on and do stuff. I want so desparately to clean up the spare room, which looks like a bomb hit it, and hasn’t been cleaned out properly since my Aunt came to visit two and a half years ago. It is a dumping ground for all the pack-rat shit that I don’t want to throw away because “it might be useful”. I get that from my Grandma. She had a walk in cupboard – but nobody ever was able to walk into it…
I also want to sort out my computer. With next-day delivery, my hard drive should arrive tomorrow, and as it’s an internal one, I’ll have all my files and programmes to transfer over, once I’ve uploaded Window$. Oh joy! I wonder who I can palm my old HD on to…?
Another upside to Ginger being away is that I’m likely to update my blog more often.
You lucky people…
Noooo! That was one of my favourite characters!
However. A review. “Order of the Phoenix” kept me on the edge of my seat just as “Prisoner of Azkaban” did. I was expecting something more exciting to happen re: Aunt Petunia and the Mysterious Howler, but it all made sense in the end. What else? Oh – Prof Umbridge way more irritating than Prof Lockheart. However Kudos to Fred and George.
Thus endetheth the review.
Or, “Do Not Disturb”
Thanks to my lovely friends at amazon I received “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” this morning.
I have reached Chapter 5, and want to know how Aunt Petunia knows about what she knows about…
Be back soon, as they say.
Doo de doo de doo…
I’ve been having problems publishing to my blog. I’m not ignoring y’all.
Mr D has officially left his job at Wankbastard Inc. Officially redundant, due to company liquidation.
He is taking it well, but like he said this morning, “I’m still asleep”. He’s just done six weeks of nightshit (sic) and is shattered. He took roughly two days off a fortnight. The thing is, we still have the mortgage and all the bills to pay, so the money he earned has ensured that everything is up to date, and there is a bit of money in our savings account to cover any bills we have forgotten (like the council tax reminder that arrived this morning…)
There are a few things around job-wise that are ‘probably maybe’, for example, the company that wants to buy some of WB Inc’s machinery apparently don’t have the staff qualified to use it. Mr D is their man…
Anyway, whatever happens, I have insisted that Mr D takes some time off to recover from all this nightshit.
With the layout of my blog.
It’s not much, I’ve moved the stuff around on the right column so everything follows on better, and altered the size of the font.
Let me know what you think, my plethora of readers, also if anything doesn’t work, or looks like shit in a particular browser.
I’ve also added a couple of links, now that I’ve learned how to do it!
Stay tuned for more action! (or something)