Today has been ... special.
I needed to gather all my receipts from travelling to and from work before I got my rail pass so I can get reimbursed. Could I find the receipts at work today? Could I fuck.

I come home, and there they all are in a neat little pile, so crisis averted.

I've also done BT, EDF and TV licensing for the flat, Mr Maladicta has moved the bulky furniture with his dad tonight, and all seems to be proceeding nicely. However, the optician's keeps phoning my parents demanding I go for an appointment to see if my eyes have fallen out in the last twelve months and have realised I've left my glasses at the parents' house, somewhere I have no time* to go in the next couple of months, but if I don't go, they'll cut off my supply of contacts. Great. I don't want to get my parents to send them because I don't want them getting lost in the post and partly because there are things in my room I really, really don't want them finding if they go through looking for my glasses.

* or desire
( Maladicta, Tue 19 Aug 2008, 21:16, Reply)