Today I move into my place in Brighton.

“But wait!” I hear you say, “Aren’t you working in Essex tomorrow?”

Yes I am.

“Didn’t you state previously that you’re moving to Brighton this Sunday?”

Sure did.

“Surely it makes literally no sense to head from Brentwood to Brighton and back just to sign some papers and pick keys up?”

You’d think so. But then, you’d probably also assume that this Estate Agent would be open at a weekend.

You’d be assuming wrong. It’s a Monday to Friday thing only, my friend.

Mind you, I suppose MOST people work on weekends only, and thus it’d be massively inconvenient for them to have to take time of worOH-NO-IT’S-THE-OTHER-WAY-ROUND-ISN’T-IT?

I’m not too annoyed, mind. For a start I get to leave work at 1:30pm, and secondly I get to stand in my flat tonight and say “GET IN! I HAVE A FLAT IN BRIGHTON!”. A preview, if you like.

Let’s just hope the Estate Agent doesn’t close at 1pm.

Toodles,

Pat

P.S. The whole “About to stop being an employee of my company forever” thing still hasn’t sunk in. I guess the whole “leaving” process tomorrow might do it…