Bear blog

A surveyor man came round today to measure up for our new windows.

We'd originally booked the appointment for 8 in the morning, thinking that way we'd both be in to answer questions and make decisions and would be able to dash off to work when he'd gone. Nah. He phoned up the other day to say that he'd be an hour late and that, oh by the way, it'd take him four hours to do everything.

Bloody hell.

He wasn't far off, either, although he did turn up on time I gave up on him and went into work after it'd gone half ten after assurances from Pete that he'd keep an eye on him. He'd only just got through measuring half the windows by then. He was the sort of man who looked like he still lived with his mother, too. He probably has an unhealthy relationship with his tape measure.

But it's done now. He reckoned five weeks till they're fitted. Which is, at least, five more weeks to scrape up the cash for them. Now I've just got to work out how best to make up my time at work. Short lunches or longer days? Or should I just keep my mouth shut for a few days and see whether anyone actually remembers?

Decisions, decisions.