the monkeys of the night

So I moved in. A few restless nights, disturbed by people returning from Sam’s, and a horrific shrieking from the garden that sounded like a battle between rival armies of monkeys. Everything is slightly strange. I wake up and turn on the radio to find that it has retuned itself while I was asleep and is now playing soca music (whatever that is). I have a jaffa cake bar for breakfast. And go out to what should, I can’t help feeling, be an entirely new job instead of just the same one from a different angle.

Work’s weird too. The other day there was a power cut that mysteriously affected only about three quarters of the shop. When full power returned there were problems with the computers. I was on the phone to this IT guy, running up and down the stairs in search of something called ‘the hub’: I felt like I was in some terrible game show. Meanwhile, it rains. God how it rains!

On the plus side, lots of people have been paying visits, notably on Sunday. I wasn’t there, mind; I’d gone 'home' for lunch. Few thought I’d return, but I did, and here I am, still wandering dazedly around, trying to establish some kind of routine.