I just had a look at my post for one year ago, which I finished with “I hope it was worth it!” in connection with our Wednesday lunch trip to Harlow for Mirinda’s interview. It certainly was worth it.
The interview, of course, went very well and Mirinda was eventually offered the job, which she took. Now she often catches the train out to Harlow without any sign of smoke or fire. And it was a year ago tomorrow. How time flies! A lot has happened in the last 12 months.
Today, of course, being a Wednesday I went into London to have lunch with Mirinda…except she’s still in Australia so I went to the flat instead to finish off the job I started last week.
The new bookcase sits against a small piece of wall which, while being the exact size of the bookcase, has the hub plugged into it. Because the phone point is next to it, there’s not a lot of room for movement…actually there’s none…so it was a case of cutting a sizeable rectangular hole in the back of the bookcase, to accommodate the rather massive plug.
In order to cut the hole, I had to take some tools with me from home, including a cordless drill, which made my backpack rather heavy. Even so, I had to stop off and buy a few bits and pieces at Robert Dyas before reaching the flat.
Following this shopping diversion, Mirinda now has a toolbox at the flat. This will sit under the sink and, hopefully, save me having to lug stuff back and forth every time I want to make any simple adjustments. Because I have managed to accumulate doubles of virtually every tool I own, this isn’t really a problem.
I didn’t mention last week’s failed wheel experiment, simply because I thought I’d be able to fix it this week. Sadly, this was not the case and the coffee table remains motionless. It’s back to the drawing board; there’s nothing else I can do. Though, in thinking about it, I may have the answer…
Interestingly, I didn’t take a pencil with me. I’m not certain why, but I always think there’ll be a pencil somewhere. I’m having to change the way I view the world of lead and wood based drawing products. Particularly when it comes to the flat.
In a coffee cup on the dining table there are 20 pens of various ink thickness and colour. On the dining table itself, five pens lay scattered about. And that is it. No pencils, black or otherwise. I blame no-one but myself.
I used a pen, which worked almost as well, marked out the hole then drilled it out. All in all, it took about an hour, which included cleaning the carpet afterwards. Job done! I’m quite happy with the result and just hope Mirinda is as well. I’ll know soon enough…next Monday I expect.
Speaking of Mirinda…I waited around for her to ring so I could say good night then I headed back home.
Why are the baristas in Costa at Waterloo so miserable? Ignoring the obvious fact that they work at Costa at Waterloo, I mean. Apart from their appalling coffee delivery system that, rather than speed up the process actually requires you to wait three times as long as you would in Starbucks, one big reason I don’t buy Costa coffee is because, most of the time, they are really sullen.
None of the cheery Starbucks greetings or the Nero smiles, Costa baristas are taught to be miserable. Maybe as a reflection of their clientèle…I don’t know. I avoid them. Pure and simple. I’m sure it doesn’t bother them (clearly other people are more than happy with bad service and miserable faces) and it sure as hell doesn’t bother me. Sometimes, however, it is unavoidable.
Today, for instance. The guy at the Nero cart was doing something peculiar to a bit of machinery for a customer who looked like she’d already been there an hour. I waited for a bit before deciding to go elsewhere. This decision was based on my wanting to catch the next train rather than any undue impatience, I should add.
Starbucks have the raw deal at Waterloo. They are hidden downstairs and almost outside, crammed in with McDonalds. Costa, on the other hand, are slap dab in the middle of the concourse. Therefore, sadly, Costa was my only option. And, as usual, I had to wait in line as their inefficiency dictated and the guy who served me, as well as his mate who made my coffee, were miserable as sin.
I don’t want people to think I’m just having moan (though, to be honest, I am) because I really, really want to know what kind of training (if any) Costa give their staff and why is it so different to Starbucks or Nero?
Something else, which I’ll clearly not get an answer to, is why people put up with it? I can understand if Costa is the only option but most of the time, it isn’t. If it’s the taste of the coffee then I tend to think that Nero tastes better – Costa always tastes a bit too nutty to me. Perhaps it’s just habit. Perhaps it’s just me. I’m pretty sure Mirinda would say it’s just me.
It was a very hot 30° today with scattered clouds, threatening to become threatening clouds. The only reason I’ve written that is because tomorrow it’s supposed to be 20°. I love the English summer. Even when it’s dull, it’s not dull.
Given that we are likely to have rain and a drop in temperature, I’m not sure what that will mean for the gladiolus. I don’t think it looks weird, either!