Entry for 6th March, 2008 - Frustrated

I had a fantastic two hours this evening trying to reset a power meter in an empty flat.
For reasons too unimportant to recount, I am responsible for looking after a wee flat that is leased out. The previous tenant was kind enough to leave the premises some weeks ago without telling the landlord. He did, of course, leave the place a beer-stained mess. Of course, he may have personal problems and I daresay he is due the benefit of the doubt. However, I tend to the view that he is a mannerless oaf who lives like a pig. I imagine that God will judge him in due course.
Anyway, he had managed to use up all the credit on his powercard and I had the task of re-setting it. So off I trecked to the flat, and on arrival I phoned Scottish Power.
Phone call 1 lasted 23 minutes. During this I had to disclose my personal details to a recorded message who could not understand me: "I'm sorry. you appear to have a Scotch accent, and I cannot understand you - please hold for an interminable length of time while we process call from people who do not speak in a funny dialect."
After 23 minutes I ran out of credit on my mobile phone. I then tried to top this up by credit card, to discover that I had reached my limit for topping up by credit card. This, of course, was not a limit that anyone had advised me about. It does not seem to matter that I have £7,500 of credit on my credit card - I am only allowed to top up £20 per month. The nice lady from the subcontinent (I do not believe that her real name is Britney) explained to me that "Rules are Rules".
£20 per month is scarcely enough to allow me to massage the egos of all of the actors I know. That requires at least 400 text messages per actor, per month.
So. I put my coat on, trecked up to the nearest garage in the rain, and tried to buy a £40 top up. However, the nice lady at the garage (whom I suspect is really called Britney) explained to me that they have £20 floor limit. Presumably, international drugs runners are laundering money by buying £40 T mobile top up vouchers and creme eggs from the Jet garage.
Anyway I got round the problem. By buying two £20 top ups (I am nothing if not resourceful).
Back to the flat. It is now pissing down. It is also dark and there is no electricity in the flat (as some of you will recall if you have been paying attention - come on now - you must read with memory). 40 more minutes on the phone to Scottish Power (this time cunningly avoiding the automated security questions by yelling the words "Blah Blah Blah you sassannach gits" into the handset when I was asked for character 2 and 3 from my password.
I now have power. I also have elevated stress levels.