chez moi

I’ve lost the wire to my internet connection. I’m not even sure if I actually have internet connection, but as the little wire which runs from this laptop to the phone socket is essential to testing the fact, I’m rather stymied. So I’ll write this now, and post it up later, when I either find the connection, or get out the house and return to halls. Where I have internet, I’m playing for internet – so I will use internet.

I’ve moved house. After five – yes, five – car trips (admittedly, four of those in a fiesta barely large enough for the three of us, let alone my stuff) and two days, myself and the bunsters are in place. The bunsters are sitting in their cage, ignoring me. Their cage is open, but the excitement of exploring has been passed on in favour of nap time. They’ve explored; I’ve blocked off the sofa, and all the fun has gone out of it.

Another train rumbles along under the house. The underground runs directly – I have no idea how far – below the house. It’s the house’s only fault, really. No doubt I shall get used to it.

So far, the living room appears relatively complete. I need a desk – I’m sitting on the floor – and the sofa is hidden under a mountain of clothes. I have a few bits and pieces to sort out, but the books are on the shelves, the cds are beside them, and there is a pleasant sort of homeliness to that. I find a room without books is bare; eventually more books will find their way into my bedroom, probably more as the shelves get too full. They’re looking full now, really, or at least the lower ones are – the higher ones are too high for me to reach without a stepladder. Or a chair (I also need a chair). I don’t know who put the shelves up, but it seems silly to have put them up so high. Perhaps they were incredibly tall.

I can hear the taps running as the people upstairs run their water. I haven’t yet figured out how the hot water works (it’ll be fun showering in the morning). Nor have I met the people upstairs, except via a rather snitty note requesting me to not lock one of the locks on the door, as they only have one key for it between the three of them. Ignoring for a moment how three people can live in the flat upstairs (which is no bigger than mine, and possibly smaller) I wonder why they haven’t had copies made. It would make sense, really.

But anyway. I will go to bed, in my newly made bed with its new sheets, leaving the bunsters to nap as they choose. I have to find my nightclothes first, however.

I have yet to start unpacking the bedroom.