I'm happy, can you tell?

Yesterday I finally paid for and collected my new mode of transport. It's not actually new, in fact it's 13 years old, but it's new to me. It's almost exactly the same as my previous bike that died on the A9 just south of Amsterdam in 2002. This one is one year and two versions newer than my old bike bt as far as I can see this translates into me getting a clock on the dash.

The important thing though is that it rides just like my old one and feels the same. It's wonderful in a straight line, as sports tourers should be and therefore a bugger to get around a corner. Not too many sharp corners on the M1 though, so that's good. I do have to do a few wiggly bits around London but nothing that we can't handle together.

So, all I have to do is my best to keep the speed down and keep a constant eye out for dozy car drivers trying to kill me and all will be well. And for the record, there is someone else that seemed to quite like the bike...

Are they trying to piss me off?

Last Thursday I lost my wallet. That's bad enough, but since then it would seem that everyone I talk to had a big party last night, got hammered and really aren't up to speed today. I've got the new PIN for my credit card, but no credit card, I've got the new debit card, but no PIN. DVLA have a recorded message saying that you don't even have to tell them that your diving licence (does that mean that I need one at all?) has gone missing and the one set of competent people that I have spoken to (the Police) just weren't that interested.

But since my debit card was here I can at least use that to make telephone purchases, right? Nope. I rang up to activate the card and the automated system got it's knickers in a twist, twice and told me that the card was valid but not valid. This justified every bad thought that I have ever had about automated telephone systems (and there have been many, I assure you) so I rang a real person. They assured me that my card was now activated and useable. So I tried to use it. That didn't work; the card was rejected. So I rang my bank again. They accused me of having called them on Monday to cancel the new card that I didn't have yet. I assured them that this was not the case, obviously and so they did a little digging to find the problem. Firstly, it appears that one of their operators decided on Monday to cancel the card that they had issued to me. No one knows why except the operator who isn't available for comment. Secondly, the woman that I spoke to this morning didn't check the card numbers and has now activated the new 'new' card that is currently in the post on it's way to me. A lot of good that will do me.

So, I still can't pay for my motorbike insurance. But since I can't pay for the bike without a credit card, all a bit accademic really...

Getting my new company up and running is going much more smoothly, even though I am still completing more forms than you can shake a stick at to complete the process. My company has existed less than a week and I have already had three items of junk mail. It doesn't bode well, does it?

I'm not even going to start on the request I made to find out my National Insurance Number a couple of weeks ago or the hassle it is getting a new driving licence. Government websites are only there to give us grief, I'm sure of it.

The Good, the Bad and the Expletives

The Good

Right up until 4pm today, lots of good things happened. I dog sat for a couple of hours this morning, I chatted with my dad about putting a fence up at the end of his garden and then I went shopping. I bought a helmet that is matt black and yet still qualifies as a shiny thing*, jeans that have armour built in, gloves that have big shiny plastic bits on and boots that have replaceable toe sliders. I negotiated a good discount (IMHO) and then decided to go and buy the reason for all of these bits; a motorbike. Before getting my car from the car park I decided to get thirty quid from a hole in the wall just to be safe. I then paid for my parking and headed to the car, bags in hand.

The Bad

The motorbike wasn't in a rideable condition since the front brakes had siezed. Since I had specifically gone over for a test ride, I wasn't pleased. This bike is a little newer than my last motorbike but otherwise identical. I loved my last one, so I'm expecting good things of this one. After some hard bargaining with the man in charge we came to a deal that suited us both. Not actually that bad as I will get the bike, just not in time to use it to get to work on Monday.

The Expletives
When I arrived at the garage to test the bike, I couldn't find my wallet. I ripped the car apart but couldn't find it. I even returned to the car-park but it wasn't there. The air was blue.

Of course having all of my stuff in storage in Holland isn't helping. Not only have I lost my credit and debit cards and my driving licence, I had a couple of other bits of paper that had encrypted codes on it. My backups, are, you guessed it, in Holland.

Life goes on...

What? Still Aive?

Yes folks, I'm not actually dead and slumpt over my PC. No. It's much worse, I have been given the opprtunity to have a bit of a life again.

You see, I am return-ed.

Two weeks ago tomorrow, I flew back to the UK for good. Yes, OK I'm ignoring the holidays and other such visits to the continent, but I am now, once again, a UK resident. Not that I've actually told anyone officially.

Anyway, I've spent the last two weeks trying to get myself settled and the first step has been made. I've been harrassing every IT Freelancing Agent in the country and one of them came up trumps and got me an interview with a suitable client. I spent last Thursday in London trying to convince them that I was the man they needed and it appears that I succeded. So, on Monday 28th September, I start my new contract in London. It's another bank; since banks are about the only type of company that are willing to pay the silly fees that I charge. Of course, I charge them because they are willing to pay. Keeps us both happy I guess.

But this means that I have a two week wait before I start. This gives them time to get their managers back from holiday, do a security check on me and also (hopefully) set up all my user IDs etc so that I can actually start work when I arrive. I've therefore been busy buying shiny things and trying to prepare myself for life on the rock again. I've come up against my first hurdle already. In order to be employed here I need to start bandying around my National Insurance Number with gay abondon. However, I can't remember what it is. I have in written down on several bits of paper, all of which are in my shed in Holland. I've therefore had to resort to phoning the government department responsible for this sort of thing. Of course, they couldn't possibly tell me over the phone and indeed I couldn't even request it over the phone. No, I have had to write to them via snail mail and they will post it back to me. Nice to know that the civil service hasn't changed whilst I've been away.

And to add to the joy of it all, this is the address that I have to write to...

HM Revenue & Customs

National Insurance Contributions Office

Evening Work Centre

Benton Park View

Newcastle upon Tyne
NE98 1ZZ

Yes, "Evening Work Centre". Are they trying to tell me that I am so stupid for not knowing my NI number that they aren't even going to look at it during the day, no, they are going to put it aside until the evening. If they can be bothered of course...