h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I had a dreadful day yeaterday. The Council were supposed to have someone out to fix my door entry system by 9am. I got up at 7:30am to be sure I was dressed by 8am. They didn't arrive.

By 11am I started ringing round the various managers and depots responsible for my building. It was a constant round of alternating voicemail messages and "give me your number and I'll call you right back". This activity peaked around 3:30 when somebody actually *did* call me back and said in a jolly voice "I've just spoken to the joiners; they're there now."

Except it isn't a mechanical problem I've been reporting for THE LAST THREE WEEKS, it's an electrical problem. I had to drag myself down the stairs and stop the joiners from "fixing" the magnetic latch that somebody else had disabled to allow people access to the building in lieu of a working door buzzer system.

This game of 'phone tag went on till about 4:10 when I was told the electronics sub-contractors would 'phone me back immediately. When I had to leave the building at 6pm they still hadn't called.

I dragged myself onto a in quite a bit of pain - my ribs are still bruised, and because I was constantly waiting/on the 'phone I had no opportunity to lie down all day to let them recover. I was also hungry, as I now had no food in the house - my plans were to go to Iceland for a big load of shopping at midday. Which, of course, didn't happen.

I arrived at Bisset and Hazel's to find I was the only person who had turned up. It appears that Martin is still out of the country and George lost track of the weeks... We had a nice chat, and I stuffed myself with bread, but I ended up having to take a taxi home because my side hurt too much to walk from the bus stop on George Street to my house, wasting £6.

I got home, watched "Raines" and "Numb3rs", then winced my way into bed. I didn't feel up to reaching across to switch the computer on, hence my late posting.

I got up at 9am today and started 'phoning the Council again. After a rocky start where I lost my temper with a switchboard operator and had her slam the 'phone down on me for remarking "Well, that may be how you see yourself, but from my viewpoint you are a representative of the organisation that spent the entire day yesterday [*edited*]ing me around" I got through to a manager who was finally able to get the proper subcontractor to call me back. They, apparently, had a note saying my fault had been fixed "by Council blacksmiths" and thus hadn't bothered to attend yesterday.

I *have* to go out today to buy food. The guy I spoke to says that from the fault description I gave him he knows what's wrong and will send someone out to look at it today, assuming they have the required part in stock. As it affects the whole building he won't need specific access to my flat, but they'll leave a card through my door when they're done.

As soon as I finish my I'm off to Iceland.

An engineer arrived at ten to twelve, and just over half an hour later it's fixed!

As soon as my food delivery has arrived from Iceland I can take these boots off and have a lie-down. The is being very "clingy" - he smelled the bag of white I put in the freezer when I got home. As soon as I'm fit to stand up in the kitchen for 20 minutes a third of it will be going into a pressurecookerful of stew.

Well, glad *that's* gotten fixed anyway.

Reminds me of DNA's description of getting a movie filled in Hollywood: it's like trying to cook a steak by having people successively walk through the room and breathe on it.

The stew is boiling in the pressure cooker now.