How many times do you have to send letters back with “Not known at this address” written on them before companies get with the program that the former occupant and owner of this house – repossessed some four years ago – does not live here? Aparently, there is never enough times. They are all nasty debt collector letters, and it has been clear for some time that Mr Feckless (not his real name, though financially it would be a more apt one) was not good with money.

The thing is, that with the aid of a bright light, it isn’t difficult to read what they say. Demand after demand comes for debts that have been shuffled from one debt management company to the next. All make threats about sending heavies to make “doorstep collections” or court actions, but none ever do. I suspect that each firm is just selling the debt on as soon as they realise that they have no hope of collecting. In all the time we have lived here, only once has a debt collector knocked on the door. He at least was happy to learn that Mr Feckless was long gone, apologised for disturbing us, made a note then left. Is it too hard for other companies to actually do some leg work? One wonders how any of them get their bills paid when nothing happens when no-one pays the debts.

Still, it isn’t our problem. But considering Mr feckless also gets post from the “Please rush me my shaft-my-financial-future-plus card” and personal loan people offering to lend him yet more money hand over fist at a sky-high APR, one ceases to wonder at the mess the banking sector got itself into, and arguably is still storing up for the future. A Monkey that has been strategically shaved and placed in a suit could make better financial decisions than most bankers. And they would – literally – accept being paid peanuts. But I digress

Today’s writing progress has been dogged by writer’s block. It happens. I’ve written 2,600 words and still counting, but I have to say that very little of it has come easily. Hopefully tomorrow will be an easier day when the words flow. I do find that often there are sticking points in writing a book. They are the bits that need to be written to somehow link the good stuff together, but at the same time you don’t really feel all that motivated to write them. Still – who ever said this writing for a living lark was easy? Certainly not me.