Nothing but the effects of dust and vapor in the thin skin of air

Things we already know about the people who lived in our new flat before us:

- Their full names
- Paddy's employer in 2013, how much he earnt and various other tax details (he left his P60 behind)
- That one of the spoke Spanish as a first language (the washing machine has a list of translations next to it)
- They made most of their own furniture out of broken bits of other people's furniture (a table top nailed to a bedside table! A chest of drawers with no handles!)
- That when they lost a key, they almost certainly put off replacing it until they had to move out, and had the cheapest key cut possible (as evidenced by the fact it doesn't work)
- They chose a green electricity company
- They did a decent, but not perfect, job of cleaning the place (the agency clearly didn't get a pro cleaner in, as evidenced by the P60 stuck behind the handle-less drawers. Also, black mold in the bathroom and streaks on the hob, but immaculate oven and cupboard interiors)

What I also know is that our letting agents think it's fine to just bin someone's P60, without even shredding it, which makes me 0.o at their data security. And that they don't check their properties after people move out, since they left the random furniture, a broken lampshade, and failed to move the beds as asked. Oh, and they told us they don't keep spare keys for the flats, which is just a lie (since, you know, they were doing viewings when it was still occupied but no one was home).

I shall be without proper internet for a few weeks until we get the phone set up, but I'll still have my phone (and work's internet!). So, see you guys in May!

We signed for a flat in Leeds yesterday. The agency have been super quick about taking all the listings down, so I can show you its super sexy kitchen (black cabinets, red tiles). It's broadly the same size as our current flat, but a different layout, so hopefully we'll be able to squeeze some more shelves in. We looked at a load of placed, and the houses were cute but all had tiny kitchens. It's not significantly cheaper than our current place, but it's in a much nicer area than the cheap places. We move at the beginning of April.

I've reached a point where I've had so many conversations about fifty shades of grey I can talk about it with a level of depth that makes people think I've read it, so I felt obliged to actually read it. It's sitting on my ereader at the moment waiting for me to finish Bernard Cornwell (god, that's going to be a whiplash change in styles!).

The other night I dreamt that I'd have to devour it in small chunks. Which sort of makes sense, but then in the dream FSOG was a book sized piece of cooked pork, which I was cutting up with a knife and fork. Then I was worried that my ereader would struggle to read the file properly and not know what order the pages went in (because I was cutting the pork into cubs, not slices). So I don't know what I'm going to make of the actual book, but I know it's going to make me hungry.

I slept eleven hours last night and had more crazy dreams, including dreaming I was in bed and had realised I was wearing two hats, so took them off, then I was on a train and I'd been asleep and dreamt I was in bed with two hats, but actually I was on a train wearing two hats. There was another with a street festival in London and a third where security checks at the airport now included checking your teeth for implants and looking under your nails, because of 'hackers'. I think all the house stuff might have stressed me out a bit (plus hormonal, though the cramps have eased up now) because that was a lot of dreaming.

I want a reward. Or I want a reward to be waiting for me, when I've actually finished what I'm doing. My arms are all wobbly from carrying home four plastic boxes (which weren't that heavy, but just a bit awkward), and I've now filled six plastic crates with books. Which isn't all my books, but considering I've been on book-rations since I've lived here, is probably about 90%. I've been working on the paperwork since then; 12 months worth of bank statements and bits of paper. Huge amounts of shredding and recycling have taken place.

The only difference between my room now and before I started it that the shelves have boxes on, not books. My desk, wardrobe, drawers and the rest of the space is still the same. Once I have finished with today's task (shelves) and the bed is a place I can sleep on again, I shall attempt to mentally summon some chocolate. And ring the TV License people.