The price of progress

Did Christmas arrive early and someone forget to tell me? The tiler came back to my flat today and actually did some work. Coupled with the fact that he also failed to deliver unto me anything resembling bad news, this represented something of a radical change in the nature of our relationship. By the time I'd arrived at the flat there were even tiles on the wall, witnessed with mine own two eyes! My heart leaps a little right now just thinking about it. Whilst it would go against my deeply ingrained sense of modesty to claim that I have good taste, I can state for certain that I'm very partial to the taste I do have: the tiles look really rather pretty.

On the other hand I was also reminded of the cost of my taste: I picked up the receipt for the new tiles in the post today. As I remarked to Jonathan earlier (who deemed it quote worthy, hence my reproduction of it here), it's amazing how much larger numbers look when they're printed next to a pound sign.