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Mar. 9th, 2009 05:38 pmCalled at Fareham post office after work to send off the CDs for the final of the song contest to the voters worldwide. When I reached the counter, I had to begin by asking the lady whether Malta and the Czech Republic were in the EU - I'd forgotten to look them up. They were, so that was two less customs declaration stickers I needed. Seeing my thirty or so little packages and one big one, she asked whether they were all the same weight. I picked out the couple of heavier ones, she took them for posting then said she was going to give me stamps to go and stick on the others, as if she did them all for me I'd be occupying her all afternoon.
She counted out all the stamps I needed - to make up 94p for the European ones took five stamps, while £1.64 for those going elsewhere needed four. Can you believe there's no 4p or 24p stamp any more? And the £1 stamp is an ordinary magenta one now. I miss the ones with the castle on. Then I asked for 20 airmail labels and 16 customs declaration stickers and was sent over to the space at the end of the row of counters to stick everything. The lady lent me a pen to write all the customs stickers. I was there an hour, so she'd had a point in not wanting to do it all at her window.
Came out with my tongue tasting of gum.
Hawks are at home to Bishop's Stortford tonight, but even though I have a season ticket, the £10 I'd spend on train and ferry fares, a programme, a Kopparberg and a hot dog is better put towards paying that bloody bill off, especially as my Statto money for February has failed to materialise, so an evening clearing e-mails beckons.
She counted out all the stamps I needed - to make up 94p for the European ones took five stamps, while £1.64 for those going elsewhere needed four. Can you believe there's no 4p or 24p stamp any more? And the £1 stamp is an ordinary magenta one now. I miss the ones with the castle on. Then I asked for 20 airmail labels and 16 customs declaration stickers and was sent over to the space at the end of the row of counters to stick everything. The lady lent me a pen to write all the customs stickers. I was there an hour, so she'd had a point in not wanting to do it all at her window.
Came out with my tongue tasting of gum.
Hawks are at home to Bishop's Stortford tonight, but even though I have a season ticket, the £10 I'd spend on train and ferry fares, a programme, a Kopparberg and a hot dog is better put towards paying that bloody bill off, especially as my Statto money for February has failed to materialise, so an evening clearing e-mails beckons.
