Made it back. Immigration into this country the only issue all trip. Unsmiling ominous people, and they went through everything in the van and asked me a whole host of questions. I just hope they didn’t put their boots on the fucking Eames chair. We had to sit in the van while they went through it. Bunch of plates and glasses etc. That’s all. Loads of big men wasting our and their time while someone behind us probably smuggled guns onto the train. The other side they just ran us through a scanner.
It’s one thing to be professional, it’s another thing to be a dick about it. Those lads were largely on the dick side, but there’s me in my hat.
I’m so tired now though. That was a lot of ground covered in that van with the wheel the wrong way round, either cooking in an oven or blinded by the light.
I had a hot bath this evening and we ordered Dishoom and I felt full almost immediately but that black dahl is probably one of the nicest things on the planet but so filling and so rich. I think I’ll be asleep very very soon and it is just 8. My room smells of cat wee. Boo left me a present. Not my pillow though. I’m burning incense.
The van will unload tomorrow. Once again it’ll be traffic warden bingo. Once that’s done and it is all squared off I will have a huge weight off, but… the catastrophising part of me will be playing up until we have it all up in Karen’s flat and looking shipshape. And those dumb lads put their fucking boots all over our careful load. I’m livid. It’ll be fine. But right at the last minute. The French were fine. Sure maybe we had a load of drugs in there. But what happened to “innocent until proven guilty”?
Oof.
Bedtime.
AlBarclay 