The honeymoon is over, and I have to go to work today. 'Work' consists of making a surprise visit to a stone yard in the heart of Somerset so that they cannot lie to me by saying they have already begun an order that I made a couple of months ago, and they promised would be ready within a couple of weeks.
I will then try to retrieve the drawings I left with them (too large to photocopy), go to a quarry, select the stone and arrange delivery to a different stone yard, so I can begin the process all over again.
I have already mentioned how I hate dealing with stone-workers and what a miserable bunch of misfits they all are, but under these circumstances, they are even worse. The trouble is that I already have a reputation for keeping people waiting, so it's no use trying to lay the blame on them. I went to bed too late last night, and I awoke too early. All I have had for breakfast is two oranges.
Also, I bought what I am hoping will turn out to be an early 18th century candlestick on eBay the other week. The woman had previously listed it with a reserve, and it hit £170 without selling, so she re-listed it at £25 - big mistake. She could have sold it for £170 but ended up selling it to me for £25 because she had pissed off the other bidders so much that I was the only one to bid on it.
The doorbell rang on Saturday and a postman stood there with a parcel for me from her. When I opened it, I found a crappy brass toast-rack.
So my other task today is to send the effing toast-rack to the person who bought it in London and hope that they do the same favour for me by sending the candlestick.
Following an extended fairy-tale weekend of Royal romance, this week is not starting in the way I would have hoped for...