Ok, so we were going to be in the flat from 9.00am and rock on until dusk, so we were slightly later than planned, but to be expeted right? It was Friday night last night. Things got off to a good start Jerome had already started on the living room wall when I had arrived, ready to get going on the kitchen floor tiles; when Mr Sunday the former tennant arrived to pick up the bunk beds.

Now, I don’t really know how to put this, despite only having just read a chapter on the benefits of charity, and the value of giving, I was quite p’eed off with Mr Sunday. In my eyes the bunk bed’s should have left when him and his family finally left – which was way after when they had said they would be out for various reasons that were apparantly way beyond their control. Anyway he was due to pick them up today. Mr Sunday arrived 20 minutes late, with his own Alan Key…On arrival Mr Sunday announced that dismantling bunk beds was not his area of expertise and it would probably better if I could tell him when the work men were going to be there so that they could help him take it down. Which is when my much kinder and nicer than me, husband stepped in, took the alan key out of his hand and set to work taking it down. This I was fine with, I just wanted them out. After about half an hour, I’m working on the kitchen during this time, I see Jerom walk out towards the car with tape measure and I’m like ‘what are you doing?’ Jerome’s says, oh I’m just measuring up, because he hasn’t got a car ( or a van, or any mode of transport). I’m like – you ARE joking me. Can somebody tell me, who comes to collect bunk beds, without really having any idea, or assistance to get them down and then no means of transport to get them anywhere…???!!!!!!!!!!! So, off my kind, caring and giving husband rides off into the mid morning sun with Mr Sunday, leaving me with the lump hammer are big chisel – I’m not sure what it’s called to continue my work in the kitchen floor.
It’s only when it get’s to around 12.30 when I’m thirsty and thinking, where the hell is Jerome that I call to say, ‘I’m thirsty and where are you?’ that he says he’s just leaving…He’s been helping Mr Sunday reconstruct these flaming bunk beds! I was not impressed…However, I was being a twat. Actually, after having a right old moan about the time Jerome had been dedicating to this ill equipped man, Mr Sunday had sent me a text telling me how both Jerome and I had suprised him greatly with our generosity and how we would both be blessed…Could I feel any more selfish? Probably not. And then as if the text wasn’t enough, he felt the need to call and reiterate how amazing we both were. Bad Suzy, amazing Jerome…Must try harder next time.
When I was able to welcome Jerome back into the fold he took lump hammer, saw and big chisel to work on knocking down the stud wall…Exciting stuff. A sterling job was done.

Jerome then, once back in the fold, started on the fun job of smashing down the stud wall…And what a good job he did.

I think the best thing about today, was feeling like with the wall down that actually we have the potential to create an amazing space…So, I hope we don’t mess it up!

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