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Wednesday, June 2

The Whole Fucking World Hates Me

At least it seems that way. Possibly it's only my landlord. And he probably doesn't realise the pain he is causing.

I went to bed last night at a stupidly late hour, after more pointless and unstructured browsing on the internet and watching crap TV. Let's put it this way, the sky, as seen from my West-facing window (i.e. away from any potential sunrise), had a distinct blue tinge to it. It wasn't even just a slightly blue wash over the blackness: this was getting towards full on daylight.

No worries, I thought, I'll just give myself a lie-in tommorow / later today. And when I say lie-in, I mean closer to midday for my eventual rise from my bed. Anything in single digits time-wise is pretty early for me.

Of course, this was not to be, as evidenced by my writing here at 10.30.

Firstly, I was woken by a ring on our doorbell. Bearing in mind that I'm 2 flights of stairs up in a 3-storey flat, and it's a real big effort to go answer the door. I laid there for a couple of seconds, hoping that another housemate would go, but 'twas not to be.

A second ring forced me to haul my ass out of bed, throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and head downstairs. Halfway down the second flight of stairs, I heard my landlord's voice on the other side of our front door. His office is just off our entrance hall, before our own front door, and he was welcoming some businessmen of some sort.

Why they couldn't just knock on his door, I shall never know. He always opens the main front door of the property when he's in his office, leaving visitors a choice between his door (with a handy sign) or ours. Hence, no need for ringing the doorbell when he's in his office, which is pretty much every weekday morning.

So that woke me up. No worries, I'll just go back to sleep. Most of my housemates had already left the house, to go to exams and whatnot, so there would be enough quiet to get back to sleep.

Or so I thought.

Within minutes, I heard footfalls up the stairs and across the hallway outside my room. This was accompanied by my landlord's voice calling out "hello", as well as some heavier footsteps behind him.

Once again, I hopped out of bed, threw the clothes back on, and opened the door of my room. By this stage, they'd gone upstairs and had headed out onto the roof terrace. They were discussing some sort of changes to this or another property, in too loud a voice for my liking. But then, I would think they were loud when I was trying to get back to sleep.

I figured that I was now awake for good, no matter how much I didn't want to be. I missed my landlord coming back down, and only saw one of the two surveryors (or whatever) as they came down the stairs. "Thankyou" was his only muttered word to me.

Yeah, cheers, don't worry about coming into my house at this frankly ridiculous hour, uninvited, and talking in a loud voice. Any time mate!

What capped this little escapade off was that my landlord promptly left the front door open (i.e. the one to our part of the property too). I only found this out because a mate of a housemate, who is planning to live here next year in my and a couple of my housemate's absence, suddenly knocked on the open door to my bedroom.

I was a tad surprised, but he quickly explained how the front door was open, so he just came on up. He's here to sign a contract for next year with the landlord, as far as I know. Fair enough, no worries (I keep using that phrase), but now I'm pissed off at my landlord for leaving the fucking front door wide open. There are some very unscrupulous characters in London, my landlord being one of them!

So now it's 10.45, I'm wide awake and pissed off at the fact that I've had less than 6 hours sleep. I get the feeling I could be a little moody later on. And it's all his fault!


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