We done and got moved.

What mayhem.

We turned our life upside down, emptied into large cardboard boxes, shifted them a mile over the city, and then emptied them out again.

All so we could have an extra bedroom.

And a long kitchen.

And get away from the noise and ratrun, boy racer madness of Whipcord Lane.

For all of these luxuries we are now in mortgage hock up to David Hasselhoff's neck.

I think it's worth it, though. I do. Our new house smells nice, and no matter how much Glade squirty squirty every five minutes air freshener shit you buy, there is no fragrance quite like the fragrance of this house.

It will soon disappear.

We have to keep to cat in for the next six weeks otherwise she will 'home' back to Whipcord Lane.

If that is the case, why don't old men in flat caps have wire mesh cages full of ringed tabby cats?

WHY?

Moving has been stressful. I have dry skin on my right hand that itches like I always imagined itching powder should itch, but never did.

I have had bouts of nuclear indigestion and I haven't slept for a fortnight.

But everything is okay now because we have a house that smells nice and the best chippy / Chinese in the world just around the corner.

Seriously.

They use fresh chillis and everything!

So, the only big, remaining frustrations are that: BT are a very unfunny turd of a joke at customer service. Three weeks' ago, I called them to arrange a new phone number and to get my BT broadband service swapped over to the new house.

"No problem, Mr Walton, because you have ordered more than five working days in advance, your service will be up and running on the day you move in," the BT lady lied.

I spent six or seven hours on the phone on Thursday / Friday and Saturday speaking to every department under BT's call centre sun.

BT broadband order management, BT broadband technical support, customer services, BT broadband orders... people assured me that the broadband line had been activated and was working,

"but it isn't," I told them, looking at a router that was clearly not working,

"It should be." they said, offering no further help or explanation.

Then, while I was in the bath on Saturday, after waiting a staggering 2hrs to get through a phone queue, I spoke to Andy in Newcastle. He had the sense to realise I was desperate and that I didn't really want to go through all of the checklist questions again.

"I have an idea," he said, "when someone moves, it's quite common that the previous occupant's broadband line hasn't been de-tagged, so it's clogging up the line,"

And that - it appears - was the problem.

I won't know - for sure - until Wednesday morning.

Why didn't the multitude of other customer service operators think of this rather obvious solution?

If I wasn't so reliant on my BT address, I'd go elsewhere. But I have the sense that customer service isn't at the top of anyone's list of priorities anymore.

My little token is running out at the internet cafe.

I have to go.

Not that it matters, but I will / should be back on line on Wednesday afternoon. All programme-related services that have been interrupted by the BT gits will be back on line.

Get the bunting out. Back to the top of the page...