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Moving and Moles

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That’s it. We’re almost done. Mrs M has a couple of small piles to deal with (of unpacking, not the medical condition) and we’ve got to bring the spare bed and a few more small boxes of books out of storage and put up one more curtain and then we’re officially done. Then of course come all the tasks you can associate with me (Captain Anal Retentive) such as putting all videos and DVDs in alphabetical order (and there are a lot of them) and organising books by subject, size and subcategory. I must be hell to live with at times. Yesterday I showed my new front door key to a couple of people in the office and one of them asked which castle I had bought. I kid you not. This key is immense and solid iron. Tomorrow or friday I intend to post a number of photos of the impressive Chez Moose and one of the key. The Moleman has picked up a new, stupendously annoying habit. He hums things. Now I’ll admit that I hum things too, but mine tend to be real tunes I’ve heard and aren’t made up incredibly tunelessly on the spot. Even that I might be able to deal with, but because they made up, they have no rhythm and he hums a single note each time he presses a key on his keyboard. Add this to the fact that every time he speaks on the phone he has exactly the same conversation with someone new, almost to the letter, and spells out almost every word he uses and he’s heading down the greasy slope to pain. I’ve started wondering whether it would reek too much if I set him on fire. This morning he repeatedly opened and closed the filing cabinet drawers three feet from where I sat for a full half hour, with the kind of vigour you need to drive a stake into the ground, not open a drawer. It sounds like a medieval tournament being performed in an echo chamber. And the power of the air fresheners has waned to the point where he’s starting to overcome them once more. Every day in the office with him leaves me queasy and with a headache. Can you buy a harpoon gun without a firearms licence? Not much else to say at the mo, so I’ll leave it here for now. Tra la la. Moosey.

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Written by SJAT

January 7, 2010 at 3:57 pm

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