Snagging

Firast day back at work where I feel I’m actually at work and so have to do something, procrastinating as usual, the dining room where I find my workstation now, possibly permanent, possibly temporary, we have to wait and see. The whole moving into a new house, literally a new house, has its pitfalls, the mile long snagging list where I have to tell the builders that I’m not satisfied with the finish on the patio doors, when all they did was recieve and damage from the suppliers and tell me today that the scratches on the aluminium door frames and letter box were somebody else’s fault, how the tarnishing of the window sills will be rectified with the shrug of the shoulders and a sprinkle of winolene (the alcoholics choice for all your window cleaning needs). I’m the one who paid x thousand pounds for this place, and I really couldn’t care less who’s fault this or that is, I have no interest in any of this shit, or the back story of this shit and have no obligation to listen to the where’s and why fors of the development process.

The only business I have is that I bought a new house and I want the new stuff outside to shine like a pin. As an outsider looking in, I feel the operation could probably have been orchestrated slightly smoother and without leaving things to the last minute as they have with ours and they are doing with the houses surrounding ours. People are moving in next week and the trades are buzzing like randy wasps around coke to get the stuff done, rushed off their feet and being given possibly impossible tasks to complete, I haven’t the heart to drag one of them over to check the boiler. The snaggers came over today and reassured me that someone else would be attending to their error, it was in the hands of someone else, but they had organised this inspection and “Gosh” they were so upset when the heard the news. Head will roll for sure and their decapiutated skulls will be impaled on pikes at the entrance to our Close, the bodies left to rot under the freshly laid path which is planned to circle the balancing pond and water treatment plant while the rats gnaw on their bones.

Stop lying people, take responsibility at work, I have to, presumably other people or at least a sizeable group of other people do. It just leaves me with a rotten taste in my mouth after writing a list of issues we would like to be sorted, and then feeling like i’m the bad guy. They read the list and spit bile whilst grinning behind sneering platitudinous eyes. “You ungrateful bastard” They say without saying it, but using lasers from their eyes to burn invisible holes into the brickwork. 

Our Tiler (we don’t own him, but we’ve employed him) has been doing the biz at our house today and it looks wonderful, he’s a good bloke, bought a Banksy Record in a frame, and used to go raving in Leighton Buzzard and I want to be his friend. So tomorrow he finishes and he likes our dog, talks to our dog and mucks around with our dog, so we see the light at the end of the tunnel, the work is finishing and the next stage is the home making and the expansion of mess, of which i’m rather adept at.

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