Payday

I both love and hate payday.

I love the fact I've just been paid and the fact I have money to do things with, but I hate the fact that I go into my bank account and pay my bills and then have about £100 left for heating, food and general living.

I don't pay for food, Anthony buys that which is good as it means I can eat!

It does mean that paydays are more depressing than they should be.

But today I went on a shopping spree, the only sad thing was that none of it was stuff for myself.

HMV got a nice chunk of my wages today, and Anthony has most of his Christmas presents, as does my mother. (and I didn't even buy myself one nice Anime DVD...)

One day I will have more than a ninth of my wages left over after paying all my bills (and I don't have any debt I'm paying off either!). One day...

Rollercoaster Ride

So this morning I went off to sign my new letting agreement for my new house. Got there at 10.30, read through and signed the contract, then had to take a quick detour into town as they couldn't take my deposit off my debit card and I don't have a chequebook.
Holding £950 in my sweaty little hands was quite nice, although Anthony insisted that we didn't walk back to the car past work in case I was overcome and spent the lot on books.

So, contract all signed, money handed over and key obtained! Yippee!

Then we went over to the house...

Basically for a house that's just had new heating, new carpets and been decorated, it wasn't really "finished" (as those TV people would say). There are marks on the walls by the paintwork and stains on the new carpets. Fine I thought, I'll just make a list and take photos so I don't get penalised at the end. Bit of rubbish in the garden, again, this can be sorted.

Came back here and did a bit of packing and had a nap as I was shattered, although Mr Nightshift couldn't get any kip so he's been up now for 24 hours... (not good when he's trying to disconnect my washing machine).

We went back over there to hoover the carpets ready for tomorrow and to write a list of the marks etc. Three A4 pages later I decided we'd better go see the letting agents. Basically, as well as the marks and unpainted pipes (which are just cosmetic so not that hard to live with), only two of the doors actually shut properly, we couldn't find any way of making the shower work, and in the passage between the houses where you can take the bin out, you can look up and see the floorboards of one of the back bedrooms. Most of the things were there when we viewed it the other week, but then they hadn't put the carpets down (they only went in yesterday) or finished off so I just thought they'd have fixed them.

Anyways, the list is with the letting agent and they're going to speak to the landlord tonight. I will almost certainly be moving in tomorrow and Sunday as I can't really move at any other time due to work etc. The guy at the agents is going to sort it all out apparently - I'll just have to trust him.

I did annoy myself by almost crying when trying to explain to the letting lady about why I had to get this done. Work this week has been very stressful and next week with certainly not be any easier so I wanted moving to go as smoothly as possible.

Ah well, that's life. It's all a learning experience.

I'm off to pack more things, I just hope that everything in the house gets sorted double-quick, that Virgin Media can connect me up nice and quickly, and that I hear some fabulously good news about Miss Campbelli on Tuesday night!

PS: I do have a 1kg bar of Dairy Milk for when I get overwhelmed!

Our House?

I fully intended to blog all about Bath and what a lovely time we had there, but events have overtaken me. (I shall try to do it next week instead).

When we got back on Wednesday I had a phone call from my landlady to tell me that she would be selling this house. She offered me first refusal on buying it and then said she'd pop round Friday night so we could sort everything out. Well she didn't pop round, but that's not really a problem, just means I have to sort out with my useless letting agents (of which more later) exactly when I can give notice.

We had a scoot through the local paper and found a couple of houses in this same area that are up for rent, one of them is even cheaper than this one (cos the road is dodgier I think) which is saying something as the rents have changed in the three years I've been here. Also, the house opposite is up for rent again, and that would be a nice easy move! I like this area, yes it's a bit dodgy in places, but other areas at the same kind of prices are all out of town and would be a 40 min walk or a bus ride. This area I know (cos the house I lived in before was only down the road) and it's a nice easy walk to work.

The only bugger was waiting for the landlady to come round meant I didn't do anything about finding out how much the one over the road is. There have been several groups move in and out of that house in the time I've been here, mainly Polish folk, so the landlord there might not want someone "long-term" like me.

The main thing that's making us both really ratty, is that when the landlady offered it to me, the first thing I did was refuse. Now thinking about it, we could afford this but... I've known Anthony less than a year do I want to buy a house with him? Buying somewhere now hadn't entered our thoughts before her call (although we looked in lots of estate agents windows in Bath - doesn't everybody?) so why should one phone call change that.
I think it was that when he mentioned it to his mum, she said why don't you buy it. It's made us both get all paranoid and think, well why not. But we know all the sensible reasons for why not, not least the fact that technically I'm still married to someone else and if anything happened to me the Yeti probably wouldn't miss a trick if there was a house involved. (My nice little self-written will should be fine for all other things, but I bet he'd go to court if there was any prospect of real money).

I just hate the not quite knowing. I didn't want to stay here forever, I want to own a house, and live there with Anthony, and get married again and have babies and cats and dogs and happiness - but that's all an ahead dream, not a buying a place right now dream. The fact that we've both admitted to this should make it easier, but as it is the not-knowing about when I have to move is making us ratty and snappy and worried. Gah!

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The other, ongoing, problem is with my letting agents over my rent...

- 5th March, rent goes out of my bank account.

- 9th March, rent came back...confusing me.

- 9th March, phoned letting agents to discover cause of rent coming back. Informed that accounts have changed and should have had a letter, girl on phone informs me it would have been sent a couple of weeks before and addressed to a Mr Polly. I say that a) it's Polley, b) he hasn't been a tenant here for a year so it should have been addressed to me, and c) that I had no letter anyway. She then gives me a bank account no and sort code over the phone and tells me to use the reference HILLM. I ask why this reference, she says "it's your name". I point out that it isn't and tell her my normal ref is 37BURLEIGH. She says to use the new one. I say I'd like it all confirmed in writing.

- 12/13/14th March - no letter yet.

- 14th March, go in to see agents and ask for letter with details to be posted. Explain yet again that Mr Polly is no longer a tenant.

- 21st March, as no letter yet received go in and see agents. Get great satisfaction from walking in and announcing that I have a complaint. Everyone in office stops to help! Get official bit of paper with bank details on. (Acc number different from one given during phone call). Asked to sign this. Query why I am on there as Mr, and why ref is POLLYA. Told ref is POLLYA as he was original tenant and the one references were taken for. Explain we were joint tenants and refs were taken for me as well, also that Polly is spelt Polley. Man says is a Head Office thing, correct Mr to Ms and sign paperwork.

- 21st March, set up new standing order and do bank transfer of rent from March 5th.

- 22nd March, money comes out of account. Sorted!?

- 29th March, morning, receive letter from agents informing me that I have not paid my rent, their ref 37BURLEIGH. Phone agents. Get original girl on the phone and explain, she says I'll have to speak to the manager, Michelle, who is out but will ring me as soon as she gets back.

- 29th March, as no call received, phone agents again. Get same girl who is now rude as I have phoned back without waiting for Michelle to phone me. Say I phoned at 10 and it's now 4. Rude girl says Michelle is with someone, but has had my message and will ring me straight back.

- 29th March, no phonecalls.

- 30th March, ring agents twice, busy both times. No calls from Michelle.

- 2nd April, go down to letting agents with pieces of paperwork showing three different references and two different account numbers. Get very very very angry.

*breathe out*

Needless to say I won't be renting my new house though Martin & Co as they are a waste of DNA...

A nice little bit of luck

I had rather a lot of library fines.

I know, I know. I'm ashamed of myself. Does it excuse me by saying that I acquired them because the Yeti used my ticket and "forgot" to tell me - about 18 months ago.

Ah well.

I owed them £41.60, which my lovely mother sent me as a birthday present. So I went in today to pay it off.

Girl - That's your account reactivated then.

Kate - How much is it to pay again please?

Girl - Actually, nothing.

Kate - I'm sorry, did you say nothing?!?

Girl - Yup. We're having an amnesty in February for anyone rejoining the library, like you. So no fines to pay.

Kate - !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


So I got myself some books out (and I've made a big note on the calendar for when they're due back) and I now have some spare money.

I had planned to finally buy my Unseen University Cut-Out Book(s) with it, but having just spoken to my mother she says I can't spend it on books.

Since I'm trying to eat less chocolate I can't spend it on 168 creme eggs either (12 for £3.50 at Woolworths, £50 = 168 eggs + £1 left) so I don't quite know what I shall do with it.

I know the grown-up thing would be to put it back in the bank to pay towards my gas bill, but that's not much of a birthday present.

When mum rings back I shall confer with her and she what she thinks would be a suitable purchase.

Update: Mum says put half of it towards the gas bill and spend the other half on something frivolous - but not books.

At last

Someone has finally talked about the real issues in BB.

I watched very little of it, mainly cos I can't stand the programme.

When the Jade row happened, I must confess I didn't see most of it as a racist thing, just as a Jade thing.

It's about background, not skin colour. Jade would probably have had a stinking great row with Tara P-T if she'd been in there.

The thing about it that shocked me (that shouldn't have done) is the way the media have reacted. For the last few years they've written stories about Jade and secretly loathed her, this affair gave them the chance to rip her to shreds.

Class issues run a lot deeper than anyone thinks. In the comments on the BBC article, someone says that "chavs" are working class and that it's the middle class that disparage them. I don't think of chavs as working class, to me they are the benefit scroungers, the people who could be working but can't be bothered. If you're on benefits because you need them and are entitled to them then fine. If you'd sooner claim than do any work then off to the workhouse with you!

The Yeti always used to call my parents middle class. He'd laugh at me because I was used to certain things, like proper cheese instead of cheese slices, and having salt and pepper grinders rather than using packets you've lifted from KFC. If being middle class is having a certain standard of living, then that's me. But I know for a fact that if I quit my job and had a couple of kids I could be living in a council flat free of charge and picking up more in benefits than I earn working.

Whatever I am, I'm someone who has respect for other people and for myself. Something that's lacking in a lot of places these days, especially in the media.