I asked the letting agency to give my friend the keys to my new accommodation so that I could move all of my things in on the Saturday before I left for New Zealand, seeing as they weren’t open on weekends. I pick the keys up from said friend, and head over to find that they’d given her the wrong key, so I’m sitting outside with two cars full of stuff, which a friend had driven many miles to help me transport. Needless to say, I’m pretty pissed about this, especially since I’m already paying for the room.

Still, I’m in Heathrow now, waiting to board my flight. Roll on New Zealand!