I get up but, obviously, there’s no routine and, for me, a routine in the morning is imperative as I cannot “think” but do everything automatically, without thinking.

There is no coffee. Or tea. This is not a good thing.

There is no hot water.

I go to the bathroom (my bathroom, obviously) and wash in cold water and shave with cold water. This is not ideal but tolerable. At least I have a mirror and all my stuff. I sit, the wrong way round, on the toilet to shave, with the mirror propped up on the cistern.

The luxury is dressing since I now have my “studio” which doubles as my dressing room. No longer do I have to get my clothes ready the night before. However, whilst this is a real luxury, it’s also difficult. First, I have to find the things I need and second, I have to make choices. Choices at 6 a.m. are NOT ideal. Still, my wardrobe is “organised” (by me) in such a way that I quickly find what I need without too much thought.

But I miss my mug of coffee.

I sit at the computer with some milk. This is better than nothing. But I am aware that I must leave earlier. First because I must walk further to get my car and second because I must have a cappuccino at a bar. A cappuccino is NOT a mug. It’s not even half a mug. Maybe, tomorrow, I have two?

We have opened all the boxes possible. The remaining boxes are full of either a) kitchen stuff or b) books and other things that require more cupboard space (which we bought on Saturday and, with any luck, will be fixed to the wall on Tuesday.)

Ornaments and objets d’arte and most pictures are still to be put in place. But that can be done once all boxes have been opened. F will decide everything.

The place is huge. And I mean H.U.G.E! Once the boxes have been unpacked, we shall have so much room.

The dogs seem happy enough but I sense they are a bit disconcerted by it. Dino has taken to coming onto the bed during the night and sleeping there, at our feet (or, on top of our feet) as if he needs that reassurance. He has a problem getting down since the floors in this place are slippery for him. F often gets up and lifts him down. I expect he’ll be getting used to that, then Maybe we can buy something they use on yachts to make the wooden floors less slippery?

Of course, by the time the week is out, we’ll have hot water. And the sofas back. And the dining chairs. And I’ll have a routine. And it’ll start to feel like a home. The kitchen is another thing ………