It's late on Saturday night on a deftly cold August eve', my feet feel as if they were ice blocks and I am relatively lonely and bored in an unfamiliar town. Yes, I shall be living out the rest of my summer holiday's working in Cambridge for a little known company entitled "Motorola". Mirah's "Advisory Committee" comforts me as I continue to feel a little disconcerted with respects to my new residence. Upon first look the place may seem plentiful for a brief 7 week stay. The room is of good size and seemingly appropriately furnished; I also have my own shower and cooking area. Yet I am not settled, even after being here a week already. The overall niceness of the place is offset by the oh so subtle horrors, indeed the devil is in the details.
To begin with, my room; it contains an old bureau, a chest of drawers, a new Ikea bed, a new fridge and a few lights. It is a downstairs room looking into the concealed front garden and is of good size. And of course looking around everything is seemingly sound. However, having lived here the slight problems begin to mount. First the little things; the bureau is old and designed for paper and pen usage, it does not accompany a desktop computer well which becomes a particular problem with regards to cables and their routing; the bed's mattress is inset in wood which presents particular difficulties when changing the sheets, this wood extends downwards – so whilst storage space is visible under the bed the border prevents anything from being slid beneath and it's unshapely form prevents a lift and slide technique; the chairs are old and uncomfy, the drawers are light and flimsy and the room is always incredibly dark with a filtered soft light akin to station lighting where shadows become blurry. These are mere physicalities that I can live with.
Continuing on, the door to my room gleefully boasts two large windows providing clear sight into my room and destroying any privacy I may hope to have. They have kindly provided a blind but this does not block out the light at night – the light from the corridor which is permanently lit and relit should I turn it out, the blind also has a slight kink preventing full cover. The room is not sound proofed in the slightest so that every move outside can be heard and visa versa, particularly annoying when a grandfather clock ticks incessantly in my ears at night or when a dog barks in the morn. Furthermore the house has no insulation – the floor is wooden, the windows are old and single glazed and the room is next to the front door – which lets in draughts a plenty. You wouldn't think insulation would be a problem in August but I am very cold and would dread to spend the winter here. Moving onto the shower, situated under the stairs – a power shower yes, but one of those Italian styled hole in the floor jobbies such that using it wets the toilet seat, toilet roll and the entire cavity. To make matters worse the door is garnished with more windows, this time they provide a little diffusion and have pretty colours yet as the shower is directly in front of the door, which is in the corridor downstairs (the main throughway) all privacy is shot to pieces and no anatomical features are left to doubt.
If we carry through to the kitchen – a converted wash room complete with sink, electric cooker and washing machine. The odour of dog water and washing powder is thick and worktop space is minimal. To exacerbate things further the oven door opens in such a difficult manner in a tight arrangement so that if you wish to use it you must present your face to its front so as to slightly grill your nose. There are cats and dogs that are old and miserable, there is no safe place to keep a peddle bike and I cannot get over this unsettling feeling. If this place was actually affordable then maybe I would not be quibbling. The icing on the cake occurred when, as I was watching an X-files episode in my ongoing marathon, all power was lost and everything turned itself off – but only for a brief second. The lights came back on and everything was running again, except for the computer which was still reeling. It all seemed to happen when the fridge clicked on. So I investigated, it turns out the extension cables (as provided) that I have plugged my desktop into and various others that power the lights and fridge all run into one extension under the bed. This extension comes up from the floorboards beneath and powers everything. The plug sockets in the room do not actually work. It's not like I can turn the fridge off when using the computer and visa versa and I need the fridge (which also likes to freeze my salad!). This has happened twice now and it continuously worries me such that I attempt to power manage as best I can – turning on lights only if I have to and using speakers, CD drives and hard-drives conservatively.
At least the family I live with seem quite accommodating, albeit there is a veil of mystery about them. Oh well, rant over, now I will sleep.
Labels: Life
Labels: TV