It’s just before midnight. I left the house at 8 and I just got in.

A friend of mine moved to Chelmsford today. She has bought a 16th century grade two listed cottage with three sheds and a greenhouse and a garden. It’s beautiful but I’d bang my head if I lived there. I loved the age and the garden and the potential in the sheds. I loved some of the rooms. I didn’t love the upstairs area. Too crowded. I like a high ceiling.

Jack and I started at noon loading a Luton van from an old council estate in North West London. I was proud of myself, and doubly so when Jack commented on it. I’ve had enough practice to get really good at van loads. Just as well really because we had a fuckton of stuff to take. I tetrissed every inch of that van. We got it all in by a whisker and closed the door.

No blankets or ratchet straps and a client who was a friend of mine, yes, but was incredibly particular about her things. I was terrified to scuff anything. Some previous loads ended up shifting as I drove. Things pile up against the roll-door making it hard to open. You have to force it up if that happens, and then there’s an avalanche. I wanted to avoid that eventuality, knowing I’d be opening it with her present at the other end, and knowing that if there was an avalanche I’d get it in the ear.

Haulage Al wanted to look professional. He didn’t want to break anything, or even make her think that anything was at risk of being broken. And he underquoted again. Sixty knicker an hour. We were at it for seven hours on the clock not counting the two hours back home from unload, and the hour in from van hire which I didn’t charge. Van hire was £100. I need my own van really. Fuel was £50. Jack was my plus one and I had told him £25 an hour. We ended up splitting what was left after expenses and it was not a negative day but I was saved from losing money on it by the fact that the load involved an awkward flight of stairs, and the unload was a long drive away. And we had an extra half an hour out of her realising as we were on our way there that her car keys were packed in a box in the back of the van.

I’m just writing about work. Honestly I’ve had such a practical head on today and I’ve been lifting things so much that I’m not sure I’m capable of insight. I think I’d be better off just going to sleep and waking up in Spring without having to do any haulage.

Out of London!

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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