Some Success, Sand and Security (Too Secure!)

Had a mess about with Frankie's old setup before going out, just to give him something to do whilst I get the new one done. He's now sat making "ting" noises in his glass foodbowl. Correction, now he's making little "zing" noises as he's climbing out ninja-styly. Quiet for him anyway. I can hear Frank tapping on the corkbark peices now, he'll be having a look at how I've rearranged it.

Left about tenish this morning, umbrella in hand to combat the drizzle, and soon discovered I had overestimated how long it would take me to get to my interview - when I arrived half an hour early. Whoops. Ah well, the interview went well, I had a talk with the boss fella, met some of the staff in the department, got into a discussion about thermodynamics with the tech-bloke, chatted about my odd animals, and was given a lift home.

Which turned out to be when the trouble started. I stuck the key in the dodgy lock, twiddled it a bit - and it wouldn't open. I kept trying and trying, and I still couldn't get in. So, after about half an hour of this, and fighting with my umbrella in a drizzle turned nasty, I phoned the letting agents. They rang the landlord, the landlord told them "It's a bit fiddly, you have to fiddle it a bit." Interesting but annoying fact: You can't open our front door from the outside with the door handle, even if it's unlocked. You HAVE to have the key when you go out, or get someone to let you back in. And that's not today's picture of the sky by the way. Too wet to take camera out...

Well. When they called back and told me that, I responded a bit... bluntly. "Yes, I know it's a bit flaming fiddly, it's always been flipping fiddly and I've been f*ing fiddling with it for the last 30 minutes. So would you tell him I'd like him to come and let me in NOW." It was hammering it down, and I was getting very cold, very wet and VERY bad tempered. I kept trying it in the hope it'd let me back in.

Nearly an hour after I'd discovered I couldn't get in, the landlord rolled up, took my key, stuck it in the lock, and opened it with almost elegant ease.
I blinked.
How the HELL did he do that?
I asked him that too.
He sort of shrugged, said you had to fiddle with it a bit and showed me.
I still can't do it.

But we should be getting a new lock now, as I told him I was not prepared to faff around every time I wanted to get back home.

Smell like old tank now. One of my housemate's friends turned up with a blue van, full of tanks and some metal racking. There's seven tanks in total, and we're all pitching in to scrub it all down. I'm cleaning, another's stacking/drying/etc, and the third is washing sand to put in them all. At least I don't have to wash the sand to go in Frankie's new tank, that's been done for me. A winning smile won 'em over. This pleases Spyyk, one of my axolotls, because he likes digging. Otherwise, he he trashes things, as you can see!

Turns out my winning smile is doing me well today, got a call back from the interview too. If red tape goes well, I should start my new job in just over a week. Alright, it's a temp job, but it's stuff I like doing, and there's a slight possibility of it going full...

Quote for today: "This was between Andy and me whilst driving in a Mercedes: Me - it makes me feel like a dog with worms. Andy - huh? Me - well it's so low down, it feels like my ankles are round my ears and my a*se is scraping the road!" - The delightful Emma.