Four and a half months later, our souls are back. I mean, all the stuff that we shipped from Sydney has finally arrived. It has taken long, longer than when we moved down under, surely because this time it was uphill all the way to Europe.
The delivery receipt contains a little jewel that I could not ignore. In dull 12-point Arial, it reads “261.3 cuft, 7.4 m3”. That means that the shipped stuff amounts to 7.4 cubic metres.
Are you listening? Yes, you, the guy who came to pack everything up at our place in Lavender Bay, the one who yelled at me on 22 November 2005 because I had estimated 8 cubic metres of stuff and you found much more when you arrived. The one who promised me that I would never get a job as a volume estimator. You, smartass, were wrong. And I was damned right. I estimated 8 and it is 7.4. I nailed it, for Pete’s sake! I hope Allied Pickfords sack that guy and hire me as Vice-President of Volume Estimation.
I feel much better now.