Today started… with sleeping in. Ha, see, having a flatmate was good for something! Clearly, I must set further alarms, one for seven (‘get up, moron!’) and one for twenty past (‘leave NOW, moron!’). There, technology replaces the need for humans once more.
As I was running about, I realised it was a nice, bright day out there, all big cumuli leaping along the horizons like startled goats, fallen branches and luminous pre-dawn skies. Wait, don’t just belt out to work, think about this. You could call in, and spend half an hour doing a quick coat of woodstain on the windowsills, then make up the whole hour next week, before The Office Two-For-One Monthly Meal Deal. Score!
So I called in and took me work trousers off in case of Accidents with the woodstain (check out my cunning, even pre-caffeine) and set to. Almost immediately, I was walloped in the small of back by the window, which had been caught by a squall. Jesus, that was me flat on my face over the frame and very nearly pitched headfirst into downstairs’ front garden, too; but fortunately my elbow broke the fall. And that is gonna hurt like hell all day. But, no time to dwell on it, keep painting!
And almost immediately, I was hit in the face by a big gust of rain, which blew up and under the window. Great. This stuff ain’t rainproof for another hour, I can hardly take it back off, what now?
I put my work clothes back on and stomped off to work, is what. The rain stopped immediately, just to make me second-guess myself and wonder if I should belt back and start again with the… no. Dammit. Been played once already today!
Still, if I hadn’t been late this morning, I would not have got to appreciate the rosy pink dawn colours the cumuli turned when the sun came up. It was really lovely. But, after a start like that, and being already bruised and late, I do not think the day is going to get better, somehow.
And indeed, I was quite correct. I’m still not sure if it’s a good thing or not that the boss has not emailed in from her telecommute Down Under, as she said she would. On the one hand, everything’s still up in the air; on the other, we have no new ten-page missives telling us complicated procedures for booking our time off (which nobody, not even the boss herself, has ever implemented). However, my workload feels like it’s stacking up, and my productivity feels like it’s down around my knees.
Admittedly, when I analyse the actual volume, there is no reason for this feeling. Maybe, I’m just irked by my repeated failure to get this damn window stained. In theory, it could be an eight-hour job if you just whip on a coat of stain every four hours, but noooo; I started this on Sunday, and it is still barely a third complete! Also, I don’t know what the rain is doing to this morning’s portion!
Also, I am waiting to hear about when I will be helping my ex-flatmate move the rest of her stuff out at the weekend, and she’s coming over tonight to look for a letter and sure, didn’t I already shift all the stuff from her old room into the lounge already so I could do the carpet edges last night, so I might have to shift it all back and pretend I didn’t, in case it looks like I absolutely cannot wait another minute for it to go… and I have a Hallowe’en costume to organise and I have to bite the bullet and buy a working hoover and I have a Party to go to at the weekend, and I am getting really antsy about all of this. Again, I don’t know why.
And when I got home, it was clouding over, sure enough, but there it was a thin, high, grey cloud. Quick! Another layer of stain on the windows!
Even high cloud can piss it down, turns out. But again, I was really cunning [twice in one day, you’ll be invited to join MI6 before you know it. Not. – Ed]. I suddenly realised that I could flip the windows right upside down, with the outside on the inside, and at least put a layer of stain on them, while keeping it dry! Score!
And my, that rain was really loud. Which turned out to be because it was hammering off the stain-tin – flipped-upside-down windows slant inward, not outward, and the rain was pretty much hitting em horizontally. The lounge was flooding! With only one basin and three windows, I was in a bit of a quandary and had to settle for laying down every dishtowel in the flat.
At least my misfortune seems to have gone unnoticed. And the letter got found. I have still, however, not managed to book to go to the Church of Lightning Serfs’ Reunion, because the that day in December is, er, not on a weekend. And I was told to keep that weekend free. I R is confused now. And despondent from watching the airfares climbing steadily in exactly the way my share values don’t.
(Yes, I have Shares. Behold my unfeasible up-market-ness! For the purposes of the Chronicles of Nonsense, however, I will point out, I have roughly Three shares, and they are worth about a fiver each. The cash-in fee alone would have me out of pocket.)