Flat Pack Furniture

I have been back in London now for almost four months. I'm pretty much settled back in, and yet I have been living out of a suitcase for the whole time.
Was it a subconcious way of deluding myself I was still travelling? Possibly...on some very deep level. Actually, it was more that I had no time or money to buy a chest of drawers.
Well this week I have plenty of time (still no money but I got to suck it up and buy the damn thing sooner or later) so I ordered one from Argos thinking I'd spend a day off constructing flat pack furniture.
I also bought a desk so that my (desktop) computer has somewhere to sit that is not the floor. It's somewhat inconvenient down there.
And this brought up the first confusion. Argos, instead of asking what day I want my order to be delivered, asked me separately for each individual item. Why would I not want them to come on the same day?
Of course I picked the first day that both could be delivered and thought nothing more of it until this morning when the chest of drawers arrived but not the desk. I asked the man, who told me it would probably come on the transit van later. Then he asked me to make him lunch.
Ermmmm....? In a word...
So still expecting a desk to arrive anytime before 8 I set to work putting together my now glorious chest of drawers.
There are a lot of parts in that box. And who knew that many types of screw existed? But that was not what bothered me.
I thought the point of flatpack furniture was that anyone can put it together, that everything you need comes in that box. But no. On page 2 of the instructions I was informed that I needed a hammer, a screwdriver, scissors, tape measure and safety goggles.
Safety goggles??
Lucky for me, my flatmate (who is moving out on Sunday. SOB!) has quite an extensive toolkit. Well done her. There were no safety goggles but I managed without.
I grabbed a beer and began work. That seems like the appropriate beverage for DIY, doesn't it? And before long I was folding all my clothes into their new home. Hurrah!
And then I waited for the desk. And waited. And waited.
And it bloody hasn't come, has it?! Stupid Argos. I'm not even in until Wednesday. When am I going to get that now?
I was just kind of hoping to have a pretty much complete room by June (better late than never). Argos, you'd better look out for an angry/mildly irritated phone call at some point.
I do know though, that the desk will be build by a brilliant craftsperson so I guess the masterpiece will be worth the wait.
The only question is: will I still have access to the tools by then? What happened to the classic allen key?
That's two questions. Never mind.

Stuff about me.

We have been acquainted for a long time now. I have no idea who you are of course but I've been sharing my life, thoughts and probably sometimes shaky opinions with you for over a year by now. Time flies, eh? 

But here are some things you might not know yet. (Do not expect my bank details and address to appear here.)

A couple of days ago I managed to lock myself in the building next door to the shop where I work and didn't really know how I got there. It was like a very disappointing Narnia.

I lost the key to my locker, broke my bike and forgot my Oyster card in the same day.

Apart from the bike, things I own that are broken include my iPod, my laptop, the Internet of my PC, and almost all of the bags I own. And some of my shoes. 

Yesterday, 4 months ago I was in a hot spring in the Himalayas. 

Yesterday I moved all my bedroom furniture, cleaned the oven, did 3 loads of laundry, took out the recycling, watched a programme about why the descendants of slaves are better athletes, played the ukulele and wrote my name, date of birth and confirmed that I am eligible to work in the UK on 3 application forms. I did not complete the small essay questions that seems to be on them all. That seemed to much like hard work after inhaling oven cleaner fumes.

I have 5 spanners of various sizes in a row on my bedside table.

There are at least 6 books in my head that I think about writing but can't quite decide which one or how to go about it. 

I'm learning to write with my left hand because I once learned about a sailor who had to after his right hand was blown off with a canon ball. I want to be prepared. 

Tomorrow will be the first day I'm not working in 36 days. I'm excited.

Sometimes when talking to customers, I realise I'm not actually talking but making gestures and funny faces that convey my meaning perfectly. I suspect I'm talking to them directly mind to mind and now I have noticed this gift it will vanish forever like the elves from The Elves and the Shoemaker. 

Sometimes I change my handwriting on purpose, just for a little variety. I'm currently experimenting with a new style of A. 

I'm sleepy now. 

Exploring Publishing

I write from the middle of my first foray into "things-I-might-want-to-do-with-my-life." The first potential career I'm investigating is Publishing, courtesy of a month of work experience (aka general dogsbody-ing) at HarperCollins Children's Books. 

So far I have posted alot of books to various other publishers and authors (receiving a delightful letter from the genius that is Michael Bond in the process), looked stuff up on the Internet (random facts, Dr Seuss quotes), made a few spreadsheets and word documents, made a mailing list, rejected a pile of illustrator CV's that I didn't like, sent a thousand prizes to various competition winners.

The trick is though, to keep an eye on what the actual employees are doing to see if that looks like something potentially interesting. I would hope that if I actually worked there I'd get more interesting stuff to do than sealing envelopes. We'd get a work experience sucker in to do that crap. 

So what am I learning? 

Well for a start how to work in an office: how to sit in front of a computer for hours; what to wear; when it's appropriate to break the spell of silence and concentration, and initiate a chat. 

I used excel for an actual purposes for the first time...definitely banging that on the old CV. 

Now, what do I like and dislike? 

My favourite thing about HarperCollins is the staff cafe. They make amazing food for like £3 or so. There is also always boxes of biscuits or Quality Street hanging around the office. Who am I to refuse?

I like not having to do any lifting or cleaning. I like not having to deal with the general public. I love the picture books. Oliver Jeffers may be the coolest person in the world: picture book author, illustrator, plays the ukulele, writes stories about penguin, moose, a kite up a tree. I like how simple it all seems. Contrary to my fears that I might be incapable of a grown up job, it's actually pretty easy. So that's a relief.

I do not like the taste of envelope glue. I hate having to be on the tube at rush hour. I don't love being given instructions by the peron sat next to me via email. That's a bit weird.

What I've really got from the experience though is the wish to write my own picture book. Can't be that difficult can it? I mean, I can't draw but I'll just get someone else in to do that for me.

But publishing seems fine. Not as glorious I expected with all the competition for jobs but better than my actual jobs. And you can read at work. What a delight. 

I will continue to consider it and let the publishing world of my decision. Then I'll be snapped up I expect, if my letter sending skills are anything to go by. Damn, I'm efficient.