I could write a long and not particularly interesting moan here at the moment, but to do so would leave me open to accusations of being an ungrateful, complaining, miserable git. I’d be less inclined to moan if certain people would undertake to fulfil the promises that they have made within the timeframe that they suggested without offering weak excuses and then getting on with their own thing, a thing that their weak excuse should preclude them from doing. As it is, I’m feeling cheesed off and a little under-supported.
It is strange that Hels and I often experience the same moods at the same time. She’s fed up too, and being 65 miles apart renders offering solace somewhat difficult. You can’t hug over the telephone, no matter how hard you try.
Anyway, it seems that the flat will not be finished, or even close, by the time the estate agents come round on Wednesday morning. For those that hadn’t realised, that is the source of my pissed-offness. Comments like "at least they’ll be able to see that the work is being done" do not help at all – the whole idea was to make the flat look its absolute best in order to make the best impression.
On the good news front, Greg has made available a sofa for loan that will look good in the living room, and give me something soft to sit on for the first time in weeks.
UPDATE: I’ve decided to defer the estate agents until after the weekend.