London Diary





My boiler broke down, damn it, and I was forced to take an icy cold shower this morning ... I'm getting fed up with this dump! It's damp, it's cold, it's dark ... the only plus being that it's relatively cheap.
Evidently cheapness has its price ... and unless I'll get me some reasonably paid temping thing or find a way to sell some of these 'useless' creations of mine ;-) things are pretty simple: I just cannot afford to move.
I had lunch with Brian, who quit his Ealing debugging job, put together a neat little pamphlet, and now is trying to sell his Y2K-expertise door-to-door, all over Central London.
He gave me the address of a game manufacturer down in Richmond, looking for an English-into-Dutch-translator for some soccer videogame. That might not be too bad, actually. Maybe I should give it a try! I'm not a specialist, not even a fan, but I could ask my brother to send me a couple of Dutch soccer magazines, or ask him to tape one or two matches on Dutch television. Wouldn't that suffice to get the hang of the idiom?
Brian lent me his handy, and I rang my landlord, complaining about the general state of his basement and that of its outmoded hotwaterboiler in particular. The thing's over thirty years old and seems to be modelled after the atomic bomb that was dumped on Nagasaki, I swear!
The guy was friendly enough, actually. He promised to send somebody over later this afternoon to have a look...
Let's praise the (land)lord!