In just over a week I’ll be collecting the keys to my lovely new flat, but unfortunately I won’t be moving in until October because of my very long but very well paid summer job. Thankfully my flatmate, Jonny, will be moving in straight away but this means that bills have to be sorted. Not just bills but means of entertainment i.e. TV, and internet. I found a good deal online with Sky, who I think are like TiVo, and their package includes…
- A free Sky+ box (i.e. a TV recorder)
- Unlimited broadband internet
- Free evening and weekend calls
- Line rental (for the above)
All this for £40/month ($59) – now it might seem expensive to some, but it is being split between two people and our energy bills aren’t going to be that high because the flat is “green”, whatever the hell that means. Plus we only run on electricity so there’ll be no separate cost for gas, so I’ll have to remember to turn lights off and shut down my computer rather than leaving it on standby. Anyway, I’m getting off topic. So, I’ve found the above package for all of our entertainment needs yet I’m find myself becoming incredibly angry as the hours go by. Why?
I’ll tell you why. Sky need to know the phone number of the flat so they can check that the actual phone line can be used by them. Will my landlord give it to me? No she will not. Why? Because it’s against data protection laws. Listen lady, that phone number will be my phone number a week on Thursday so just give me the damn digits! No. Secondly, I need to know whether I can have Sky installed in my flat before actually booking a fitting. I don’t want to have a satellite fitted and holes drilled into the wall, only to be told that it’s not allowed and I have to pay for the damage. No thank you. Will she tell me if I’m able to have Sky installed? Surprisingly, no she will not. Why? I don’t have an answer for this one – it baffles me.
That’s not the best part though. I must have e-mailed her about 3 times in the past month to ask the above questions and she hasn’t replied. Now I know she is busy, because over the past two summers I have worked in a student accommodation office answering the same questions as her over and over again. Sometimes I’ve not got around to answering e-mails, but I make sure they are passed on to someone else. If they do get ignored then I’d expect an angry phone call, and rightly so. When someone calls me and asks me the same question they did in the e-mail, I answer them because it’s quicker and gets it out of the way.
What did my landlord do when I rang her about 15 minutes ago? I’ll tell you what she did. In conversation form.
Me: Hi, I’m looking at entertainment packages for my flat and wondered if you’d be able to tell me if I’d be able to have Sky fitted?
Her: *pause* *sigh* Is this for Flat 13, *insert street name*?
Me: Yes 
Her: Did you e-mail this morning?
Me: Yeah, I thought I’d ring to save you time replying. Plus, I kind of need to get it sorted.
Her: It’s really busy here and I’m rushed off my feet…
Me: I completely understand, I work in an accommodation office myself
Her: I will reply to you before 5.30, please be patient.
Me: Um… ok… bye?
Can I just ask one thing? If she’s planning on replying today, and knows what she is going to say… why not tell me over the phone?! It’d save her a lot of time considering she’s really busy and it’d stop me from annoying her. If she replies at 5.30 and says I can’t have Sky installed I am officially going to panic because this is the best deal I’ve found, and I can’t handle having three separate bills for TV, internet, and phone. Oh the joys of moving house.
UPDATE: It’s 5.30… I’ve heard nothing from my landlord.
My dad didn’t have an amazing childhood, but he never speaks bad about it. His parents struggled through each month just managing to pay for necessities and rarely buying luxuries. His father had been in the war and, from what I remember of him, he wasn’t a happy guy – but he totally adored my nan. My dad had two sisters who we only see at Christmas these days, and spent most of his childhood playing in the street and supporting Manchester United. My nan died of breast cancer before I could ever meet her but the only stories I hear of the “good old days” usually come hand in hand with laughter, and huge smiles. My dad loved his mum more than anything in the world and we rarely speak of her now because he still hasn’t really accepted her death, even though she passed in the early 80s.
He went away to university and studied Fine Art, and I think that’s where my creative streak comes from. His artwork is just stunning and he has the most amazing eye for detail – I’m so proud that my father has such a huge talent. He just about graduated but got a job somewhere that is completely the opposite of where an artist should work. I shan’t tell you where but let’s just say there are slot machines and huge amounts of cash in his view every night. Did I give it away? Well that’s where he works as a manager.
My parents had a difficult time conceiving, and my mum suffered several miscarriages before she had me. But at 32 years old, they finally got me (woo!) and they were too tired to try for more. The day after my mum gave birth my dad got mugged and turned up at the hospital with two black eyes, and a few broken ribs which is a story that never gets old in this household. Once I was home and they were settling into family life, he developed manic depression and had a few scary moments which led to him being institutionalised for a while. So I have a creative streak, and a very over active and analytical brain to thank my dad for.
My dad is incredibly academic and extremely protective, sometimes to his detriment, but he only wants the best for me and nothing less. Everything he does is for me and my mum. All the money he earns goes on making us safe and happy. My earliest memories I have of my dad consist of him taking me out every Sunday morning to the park to feed the animals, and then stopping off on the way home to get me a bag of sweets. He’s always encouraged me to read books and get on with my work, and always asks why I’m not doing university work if I’m sat watching TV. As annoying as this is, I understand why he does it. He wanted a better life for himself than he had in his childhood, and he wants me to have a better life than we do now. Not that it’s bad in any way, he just always thinks there is something better.
These days my dad is grumpy most of the time, and worries constantly about our finances even though my mum has them completely under control. But with his grumpiness and worrying, comes a wicked sense of humour and a huge amount of love and I honestly could not wish for a better father. I love you dad
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