New job

I just arrived in Durham for the start of my new job. Dad and I came in two cars loaded with books, I met the estate agent and received the keys, and then decided to make tea, quickly realising that this was no mean feat without a kettle or pan to boil the water. Then I remembered I had my camping cup thing, so the disaster was averted.

After dad left I stood about the house for a bit because I don't have any chairs yet. Indeed I don't have any furniture except a little coffee table, which actually functions very well as a stool, so between the coffee table and my boxes of books perhaps I won't need to buy any chairs after all. After a while I grew bored of sitting on my coffee table, so I decided to go and look for a supermarket, following the faint rumours I had once heard of a Sainsbury supermarket at the north end of Durham.

And by god, the rumours were true. Not only did I find a Sainsbury, but it was the largest Sainsbury I've ever seen, and it was besieged by a whole damn retail park with about a million different shops. Since I'd brought practically nothing with me except clothes and books and CDs, I ended up filling the car with stupid household crap that nobody really needs, like a couple of little bins, a box thing to put towels in, a bag of dishcloths, detergent and a dustpan and brush, et cetera.

I bought a cheap set of cookery knives in a vacuum-packed plastic case, and when I got home I realised I didn't have any knives or scissors to cut the case open with. The only thing I had that could cut it open was a corkscrew I'd also bought, but the corkscrew was fastened up with plastic ties that I needed a knife to cut. This is a rum pickle and no mistake, I thought. I was eventually able to liberate both knife set and corkscrew through the use of brute force, which proves that sometimes violence is the only solution.