Same old, same old

Yes. This is the third time I have blipped this same old building since I moved here a week ago. I shall try to widen my horizons soon enough.
I awoke to a warm-enough flat with enough temperature and pressure to enjoy a pre-work shower, making this flat now officially an upgrade from the Chatham pigeon loft.
Yesterday's knight in shining armour assured me he didn't hold out a great deal of hope for the longevity of the boiler but he did show me what to check for and what to do to try to keep it alive as long as possible, so I am doing that. 
I feel like I'm nursing a sick baby.
I conclude that the owner of the property has very little pride in the place and that the letting agent is firmly on the side of the owner, as is normal. Therefore I must prove that I really am a dream of a tenant, which of course I am, despite getting off to a very bad start.
But a little less anxiety on the home front has meant that less is carried with me to work and so I have begun to relax a little there too, getting back into my stride of Making Drawings Magic Again instead of fretting about electronic communications coming in at a rate of about 45-per-hour.
The smoker who sat behind me on Monday has now relocated to the bank of desks in front of me, adjacent to her closest collaborator, and that means that they can sit side-by-side discussing their shared responsibilities quietly instead of the smoker scooting up behind me and calling over my shoulder in her faggy breath. This is a positive change.