Home is where the delivery is.

I only spent about two and a half hours this afternoon on the phone to BT Yahoo, Parcel Force and the Royal Mail. I spoke to each of these companies at least twice. I am practically bessie mates with some old guy at my local sorting office. Slightly annoying though that I had to spend so long on the phone chasing the missing wireless internet connection bits when I had a hundred and one things I needed to be doing at work.

It was all arranged. BT would send the items to my work address between 8 and 1.00 today. My phone calls commenced at 2.00. I would not have been quite so anxious to find out what the hell had happened to the delivery were it not for firstly, the fact that all three companies kept telling me my delivery had been made, and secondly, the very closely related fact that I knew it had NOT been made.

So obviously I split my sides laughing when on arrival at home (the place where the delivery was NOT to be made to) I find that in fact home was exactly where it had been delivered too. You would maybe imagine ONE person I spoke to would have been able to tell me where they had made the delivery too - but no. They plead 'data protection.' It's my bloody data for god's sake!

No matter! Not only were the parts delivered but I - Miss Completely and Utterly Hopeless in All Technical Matters - have got it working. I would be so happy if only I could be sure Reidski is going to like my hair..........