To temper the joy (near joy, after all it's probably been done by some robotic device) of having a celebrity follower on my Twitter feed, I've gone through the wearisome exercise of writing a complaint to the company who manage the block of flats I live.

It's small, it's about poorly fitted hall carpets, nothing at all in the scheme of things; it's the fact I have to do it that makes me vexed. I hand these guys a sizeable chunk of money every month. Where's my return on investment?

Everything is a battle with them. Nothing is easy. It's attrition. I'd just like things to go smoothly, quietly and transparently.