Yes, I have now moved house, and live in glorious Gospel Oak, which of course my mother is calling Hampstead. It also seems that every organisation that I have had anything to do with over the last couple of weeks is ona personal mission to irritate me. Take Lloyds for example. Now, admittedly, irritating me seems to be one of Lloyds's particular strong points (unlike, say, good interest rates or customer service) but I gave them the benefit of the doubt, assuming that I could change my address easily online via internet banking. Once I had typed in my numerical user ID and my two passwords (letters and numbers) I found myself on their "secure" site, where I could (if I so wished, or had the capacity to do so) transfer hundreds of thousands of pounds in and out of my account. But despite this I could not change my address. Why? "For security reasons". How very reasuring. I was told I could, however, get a form sent to be so I could do this. I clicked on the appropriate button to be assurred that a form was in the post to me. TO WHERE?? I'VE MOVED!!! YOU DON'T KNOW MY ******* ADDRESS!!!
And breathe.
Then of course my delightful new neighbour decided to try and let herself into my flat, forgetting that she actually lived upstairs (it's easily done), and got her key stuck in my lock, which broke. At least by this point we had electricity, which had cut out on Sunday night because unbeknownst to us at this point we were on a key meter, but a.) nobody had told us and b.) someone had nicked the key.
So you will understand that my week has only got better, not being able to get any worse, as I have run four workshops to steer our new international students through our wonderful banking system and the confusion that is university administration. Basically, I am currently being paid to talk, which those who know me will know is a Good Thing. All is not great, though, as I am currently internetless at home and, not content at having failed miserably in all ten writing competitions I entered over the summer, I want to enter some more.
And breathe.
Then of course my delightful new neighbour decided to try and let herself into my flat, forgetting that she actually lived upstairs (it's easily done), and got her key stuck in my lock, which broke. At least by this point we had electricity, which had cut out on Sunday night because unbeknownst to us at this point we were on a key meter, but a.) nobody had told us and b.) someone had nicked the key.
So you will understand that my week has only got better, not being able to get any worse, as I have run four workshops to steer our new international students through our wonderful banking system and the confusion that is university administration. Basically, I am currently being paid to talk, which those who know me will know is a Good Thing. All is not great, though, as I am currently internetless at home and, not content at having failed miserably in all ten writing competitions I entered over the summer, I want to enter some more.
2 Comments:
at my new bank i was supposed to get my checks in 2 weeks. after 4 i went in and asked. they had not ordered them. nice. i got them a week later. my atm card was supposed to come in 3 weeks. after 5 i asked where the card was. they said it had been sent 5 weeks before, canceled it and ordered me a new one. oh, come on. now i'm suspecting they'll think someone is illegally accessing my account because i'm actually spending money now to make up for time lost. gah.
so, not the same experience, but bankis are dicks.
Estate Agents Rock!
(There should be a sarcastic font)
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