Property Manager? Please.

It's in the name isn't it? MANAGING COMPANY. In every field of work management level jobs require some form of organisation and understanding of the job that you do. If you have employees, you manage them. If you have customers or clients, you know that they are the reason you have a job and you try your best to provide a good service to them. Now I am a manager myself. I would never claim to be the best manager in the world, however I know what I am doing. I would never describe myself as one of 'those' people who annoyingly say "the customer is always right" yet I will always honour circumstances where the customer is indeed right.

If only every company ran that way.

I moved house 2 weeks ago today. The most stressful time of your life they told me. Pah! I said. Ridiculous. I can do anything! Yes, well I did it. No thanks to the company that I moved with and who I found out once signing the rental agreement, are the same company manages the property. Great. Back to the days of house inspections. I feel like a student again.

Please bear in mind that in my last property, I spoke with the manager about 3 times in 2 and a half years. When I left, I had an outstanding reference and received all of my damage deposit back. Not to claim that I am the perfect tenant, but I am a darn good one. Apparently this means nothing and now I fear I will end up paying through the nose because of the incompetence of a property management company. I would totally destroy their name on here if I thought I wouldn't get sued, and seeing as I just moved, I don't think it's a good idea in case I get kicked out also.

So we moved in, it was a busy, sweaty day. We even picked up the keys early. Up to this point I had been thoroughly impressed with the people in the lettings agency. Yes they all seemed a little young and inexperienced, however they were all polite and respectful. The guy who showed us the flat in particular was very friendly and approachable. Things started to go wrong when we were given the keys. One set. For two adults who had applied to live there over a month ago. To give credit to 'A' (for we shall refer to him as this!) he told us we could go get some keys cut and claim the money back off our next rental instalment. Although this was inconvenient as  I'd rather not spend moving day running around key cutting stores, we agreed. I then asked about the inventory of the flat and if we could take a copy to check it over when we arrived in our new home. After an awkward few minutes where A disappeared to find it, he came back and said it was currently being typed up and we would have it sent out by email by the end of the day. Alarm bells started to ding a little, but we had a lot to do so I agreed and we left.

SO by the evening we still had no inventory. By now we had moved all the stuff in and I was starting to get annoyed as at this point it would be difficult to check everything thoroughly. Also, the mere fact of us having moved in now would not be good when arguing against damages at the end of the tenancy (if necessary of course, I hadn't had to do so for my last flat however let's just call me a realist!). I actually told my partner at this point that we'd just have to wait till tomorrow as we still had to go get keys cut.

Cue our arrival at Timpsons (they cut keys!). As usual, nice service, done quick. Here however, we were told that the main building key could not be cut, it had to be ordered as it was a security key and this couldn't be done without the written consent of the building's owner. I know. HOW was this not sorted before we moved? So we gritted our teeth for the night, giving the management company the benefit of the doubt and we'd call them in the morning.

The next day my partner called the property managers. We had a list of questions: we had discovered a burglar alarm which we had no code to, we also saw a sign saying permits were needed to park in the carpark. We also had no idea what utility companies we were with. I however managed to sort that out sans management, but we were still in desperate need of a key. We both work and moving our schedules to match was a near impossibility. We were told the inventory was STILL being typed up and it would be emailed out to us and that the girl on the phone would contact the landlord ref the written consent for a key.

The following day (!) we were contacted with the wrong code for the alarm (which to this day we do not have a code for as we were told if the code they had didn't work there was nothing they could do) and I was told that there was no understanding of the landlord that I would need a parking permit. The inventory was not given to us nor mentioned on these emails. Later on in the day we finally received an email with an attachment from the landlord giving permission for the key to be cut. However he put the wrong address on the email and it was also worded wrong - it needed to be a request for a secure key to be ordered. So we contacted the agents again via email to try and have this corrected.

By now we are onto Friday of moving week. No inventory, no help at all. On Friday myself and my partner sent separate emails trying to chase up the key and inventory and both were ignored. There was simply no response. Not even a "we are still looking into this".

We didn't hear a thing until Monday. The day we really started to get mad.

We received an email saying that our signed inventory was still outstanding and that we has still yet to sign and return it, please could we sign the attachment and return it to confirm........there was no attachment. I hit the roof. How DARE they accuse us of not doing what we are supposed to when they hadn't even sent it out! I emailed right back telling them we haven't received it. At the same time, unbeknownst to me my partner was on the phone to them explained the exact same thing. He was told it was sent out last week (we had not received it.) He was then told, they would resend it via email so that we could get it back to them asap.

Later on Monday afternoon, I had a call saying that they had spoken to the landlord and that they would be able to sort a door key out for us, but that it would take at least 2 weeks. To give them credit, they told me that they would let us have their management key in the meantime so as not to disrupt our lives too much. If you just read that little fact it looks great. In fact, I nearly forgave them everything at that point. I thought it showed real client care and foresight on their part. Except that had they really had foresight, they'd have done that from the word go.

I got home from work Monday night and guess what I found in the letterbox? An inventory! Hooray! Still, no copy via email as promised (now on two occasions) but at least we had one. So I immediately went through it and edited, added, changed the details. I was immediately concerned. There were numerous problems with the flat that were not listed in the inventory, and some things were not even noted at all. For example, there was no investigation of the internal part of the cooker. The toilet was not listed. There was a clear cigarette burn in the living room carpet that was missed. I added them all and as my partner was away until weds with work, I left it for him to check over and hand in on weds, the day I had arranged for him to pick up the management key from the local office. Simple you'd think!

It was noted on the inventory that we were supposed to hand it in no later than 72hrs after we moved in. I amended this with a note stating the date it had been received and that we would hand it in within 72hrs of this date.

On the weds (over a week now since we moved in) we handed over the inventory and received our temporary key. My partner was told that it would be looked at during the week and any problems we would be contacted. Again, sound like everything was now sorted. Fantastic.

Let's skip forward 6 days. To today. I received an email once more from the management agency telling me that WE STILL HAVE NOT SIGNED AND HANDED IN OUR INVENTORY. Not, "can you confirm this has been done?". It was stated that we had not done it. I immediately replied saying that we had done so a week ago and I needed it confirmed asap as there was a lot of edits on there that needed confirming. But of course, at this point I became a bit annoyed and het up. Because this agency classically do not reply to emails, I called them and left a message asking to be called back.

Quite promptly I received a call from 'D' (which was nice that I didn't have to wait!) and I outlined my concerns. I told D that this was the second time we had been told that we hadn't done something and to be quite honest I was annoyed with it now. Neither time had been us at fault and the communication between branches was in need of sorting out. D told me that our inventory was probably lying on someone's desk and that they had done the correct thing in contacting us otherwise they might have not known it was missing. I again relayed that it was with one of their offices as agreed and they should have been contacted first. I told the agent that I was worried that as it had been so long now since we moved in that this would not be taken into account when looking at the edits. I asked for his assurance that it would be taken into account as there was so many things missed on their inventory. I did not want to get to the end of the tenancy only to find we are charged for things that were missed by them.

D told me that he would not give me that assurance. He told me that without looking at it he couldn't say anything and that things could have happened since we moved in. I pointed out that this wouldn't be an issue if we'd been given the inventory on moving day but that was ignored. D told me that he would get back to me once he had seen the inventory.

I asked him if he could at least get back to me today. I was told in a very "couldn't care less" way that IF he found it today he would get in contact, if not then I would have to wait until he did.

So there we have it ladies and gents. Professionalism at it's best. Now please don't go away thinking, oh people always exaggerate when they are mad or when they want something. All I want is to live in my new home and not have this lurking over me. It should not take 3 weeks to get something so basic sorted when moving. I can say with absolute certainty that I will NEVER be moving with agency ever again, and if anyone else chooses to, good luck to them.

The Dog

I've always wanted a dog. A pooch. In fact I did have one apparently when I was just born, but alas it seems the post birth me was offensive to the poor thing and after several attempts to eat me my parents had him put to sleep. Strange to think that had that dog had the meal he intended on having I wouldn't be here today.

Maybe I am just a bit masochistic, but I will soon be inviting another dog into my life (hooray!). Luckily however, many years have now passed and I am a lot bigger than said dog so there would have to be a large amount of effort on its part to eat me. In fact, I fully expect that I would notice my limbs being chewed long before I was in any real danger. So this time round, it's all very exciting.

The fact of the matter is that my ownership of a dog is fate. Myself and my partner have discussed getting a dog for months and had planned to look for one shortly after we moved house (due to happen in the next few days). A couple of weeks back, a poor little jack russel cross whippet cross lab pooch was abandoned in my work place. Just dumped behind the till by some scum of the earth who either didn't want or couldn't look after her. Each time I see the action on the camera it makes my blood boil. There is no reason to abandon a dog. Even people who have a true and honest reason for no longer being able to look after and animal should know better than to take the pet anywhere but a rescue home or veterinarian practice.

Thankfully I work with some of the most kind hearted people in the world, all of us naturally love animals. Perhaps this was what was in the mind of the nasty pasty who left her with us. One of the girls took her home and has been looking after her since, taking her to the Vet to be checked over and having her first injections done. Luckily our little abandonee seems to be in perfect health, other than a slight case of separation anxiety which I think is only natural. Soon enough our little pup will be with us in our new home soaking up all the attention it could possibly want.

So there we have it, how one of the cruellest acts in the world can be transformed into a happy ending. A fairy tale for puppies if you will. I only wish all abandoned animals were so lucky as to be left with my team (not that this is a call for that to happen - there are far better equipped places for this to happen!). It gives you a little insight into what rescue shelters have to deal with on a daily basis. I fully intend to do as much work as I can to help them ease their load, if not for their sake, for the sake of the helpless creatures who can no longer rely on their human owners who fail to take responsibility for their care.

Tea leafs

It saddens me greatly that in this age we have so many shoplifters in the world. Yesterday I witnessed a girl who could have been no older than 6 purposely trying to steal with encouragement from her family who were outside in the car telling her what to take. It actually makes me sick. What chance in life do these kids have of their parents are teaching them to steal? 

People simply just do not realise the effect their theft has. 

Exercise

Is there any point? Other than being healthy and looking good? I realise those are supposed to be enough but seriously....

I do enjoy a run, what bothers me is that stupid fitness levels can go down if you happen to have a week off and eat cake. I don't want a lifelong battle here. It's a little soul destroying to be running at your fastest one week then a month later be helped across the road by a pensioner with a nicer bum than your own because he saw you coughing up your innards and sweating like you were dying, crying out to the traffic to just "run me down because life isn't worth the pain".

.....that happened to a (friend) of mine....

Even if you manage to have a little work out 'sesh' without feeling like you have been hit by a train, the feeling the next day in your limbs is nothing any normal human being should want to experience. Though, without a doubt, the worst type of post-crazed-fitness-fest pain is the sneaky aches that wait to manifest until TWO whole days later. By this point, you've usually forgotten (by general brain deadness or actively suppressing the memory) the whole experience and suffer what can only be described as sudden onset paranoia that you have developed every disease under the sun. This will last at least 24 hours (by which time the pain has gone, though the mental scars remain) and then you realise that you did some exercise and suddenly feel all good about yourself and begin strutting around declaring "no pain no gain hehehehe' in a maniacal way.

As well as the physical pain there is of course the mental issues surrounding fitness. No no, not the whole serious eating problems. The simple fact that you become OBSESSED with your reflection, more specifically, your naked reflection. To me this is odd as the vast majority of people will never see you in the nude so to speak. My thinking is that you should maybe chuck on a jumper and then you'll realise all this flapping about is simply unnecessary (thank god for spell check, that word brings fear to my life). 

To sum up: eat sausages, don't worry about it. There's always liposuction.

Tribute

Today it is only appropriate to wish the family and friends of the soldier killed in London well. The country is thinking of you all.

Don't close your eyes!

I like to think of myself as an avid (good word!) dreamer. No, not in the "I have big plans for the future that there is very little chance of them happening" sort of dreamer; literally sleep. I realise this sounds like I am a lazy arse but there's only a small amount of truth to that...

I like to sleep because usually I am able to take part in a rather exciting dream that I can take an active part in and enjoy. Alas, this plan was rather foiled last night when I found myself with a mouthful of spiders and promptly had to sick them out for a while. WHY? I ask...what small twisted part of the brain felt that this was a way of my inner would expressing it's worldly fears? Psychologists may tell you something along the lines of:

Clearly the patient has an avid (!) fear of having his voice stifled by a figure of authority who he feels envelopes him metaphorically in a web that he cannot escape. 

Bollocks. (Apologies, it's been a long day!) I reckon I just have problems. I did used to write down the lengthier dreams I had, but I'm thinking that this is a lot of effort and quite frankly some of the concoctions my brain cooks up are sure not suitable for the world and his wife (or husband) to see on public view. 

I think the main reason sleep is something to appreciate is that life is SO much easier when you are asleep. For example, today I got over excited by the prospect of eating bacon rolls that were graciously lain out on a table for us at work and in my haste I managed to run into a door and nearly dislocate my shoulder as well as the door in question. In front of most of the higher management. (No, I won't claim the door was glass and thus easily missed. It was oak.) I can't recall this sort of life event ever happening in dream land. Chased and eaten by a dinosaur who ended up being the lady who lived in my old house that I never met, yes. Walking into a door, no. 

It occurs to me that perhaps I take seeing for granted. Which is odd seeing as I'm the most short sighted person in the room right now. (I realise this is no testament as no one else knows how many people are with me!) Never get dirt stuck under a contact lens in dream land either! I will admit though I do enjoy the freaked out expressions of the general public when I am mid sentence and start trying to dislodge the offending crap from my eyes. There tends to be a slight widening of the eyes and backing away from the crazy man who appears to be trying to remove his eyeball while having a conversation with you and your significant other.

So today's resolution is this: I promise to use my eyes more when awake and less when asleep. (...yes. It's an easy goal. What's the point in having them if they aren't achievable?)

Feeling 90s

If there is one thing that I have come to realise in the last few years, it has got to be that people who "grew up in the 90s" and appear to be gazing back to their mysteriously wondrous youth are quite simply liars. Most of them can barely remember the 90s, let alone anything that makes it a great decade. 

What makes me so qualified to judge? Well see, I too am a child of the 90s (technically I was born in the 80s yes, but I like to think my "becoming aware" of my existence didn't REALLY surface until the 90s). To be quite frank, I don't recall thinking it a particularly special period AT THE TIME. Except maybe the fact that bills were a mythical beast that my parents duelled with and if I wanted to be a farmer/fireman/rock star I damn well could be.  

BUT WAIT.

I have recently re-discovered the 90s in a big way. Thank you Netflix and DVD box sets - you have given me a glimpse of the true awesomeness that was 1990-1999. So far I have digested Charmed, several 90s Disney classics and incredibly Buffy the Vampire Slayer (thankfully not all in the same movie or mother dear would have been crying at The Little Mermaid for a whole other reason!). Yes, there has been no decade that really has managed to capture the vital importance of 16 year old bad ass students or managed to get us all obsessed with vampires....oh wait....yeah, let's omit twilight from this. Ruins the point see. 

Was it the end of the millennium that made the world to so gothy? All the best tv had demons in - we've already mentioned a couple but let's not forget The Demon Headmaster - possibly the most freaky set of books and kids episodes ever. And yet somehow I yearn to be him.... 

I do recall the beautiful simplicity of shows ala 90s. Who needs special effects and complex storylines when you have a 50p coin that grants you wishes when you rub the monarch's nose? I can't possibly be the only one who spent a good 5 years rubbing desperately at our lizzy's nostrils in the hopes of getting a mega drive for Christmas. Ironically it worked just as the playstation arrived on the scene. 

That was a turning point wasn't it just. Good bye non-obese children of the world, so long social clubs. Hello Crash Bandicoot. Many many hours of my life waste....erm...spent well. I feel I gained some excellent social skills bouncing on boxes and collecting apples. Who doesn't need to know the difference between running towards the screen and into it? At this point I must raise protest that I can no longer play those games on these new fangled Playstation consoles. Why should I have to buy it again and download it?!

When all is said and done, the now entertaining part of the 90s was the end. Show of hands: who felt a little awkward when the world didn't end and the computers didn't rise up when the clock struck midnight? All those middle aged couples who had decided to try putting their car keys in a fruit bowl that night along with those hot young hippies next door, just in case they never had the chance again, suddenly did an awkward turtle dance all the way to the STI clinic the next day. Countless babies conceived that night - who needs a condom when it's the last night of existence?.....ah. Life goes on? Get your coat - we need to see the doctor. 

To be clear I took part in none of that. I was far too young. I was more concerned by the fact the sky was so lit up with fireworks. Now THAT is a good invention. 

Well that's that for now. My thoughts have run dry. Which is slightly worrying. Ahhhh it'll be fine.