My webby engineers are a happy bunch.

They don’t bother me with stuff and I don’t bother them.  Much.

They wrote to me a good while back saying they were shifting me to a new building or something.  They said I should build myself a door in the new place and they would move my stuff in.  Grand.  I built the door, stuck my name on it and installed a lock.  I opened the door and went in.  It was a shiny bright room with a filing cabinet in it marked Support Tickets.  There were a couple of other doors but they didn’t lead anywhere.

I all but forgot about the move.

I got an email last night telling me they were moving all my shit over – mainly all my servers and websites.  Bugger.  I could see problems here but there was nothing I could do about it.

This morning I got an email telling me everything had been moved overnight and that I could throw away my old key because there was nothing left in the old engine room.

I opened my new door expecting shiny things and new problems.  Sure enough there were some new doors and filing cabinets.  There was a filing cabinet for Unpaid Invoices, which of course was empty.  The two doors were marked Domains and Services.  I went into Domains.  There were a few in there but I could have sworn I owned more.  They probably lost them.  Never mind.  I went into Services expecting to find all my servers and websites.  The place was empty!

There was a moment of panic.  It was just a fleeting moment because I knew all my sites were still running.  Fuck!  I tried my old door that I wasn’t supposed to use any more and there was all my stuff still humming away quietly.

I wrote to them and I have just received a reply from Tara [a lovely girl, if I can say that kind of thing these days].  She apologised which was nice, and said that things were still being done.  It was their fault that the message I received earlier wasn’t correct.  But she assured me that basically they would just be knocking a door from my new office into the old engine room.

I’m getting much too old for all this mucking about and messing.  It gives me a headache.

But I must buy Tara a pint next time I see her.