Critical mass

The hostility of inanimate objects towards me and my family reached critical mass last night when the central heating switch went wrong and tripped the circuit breakers. We already had a broken immersion heater and a faulty dishwasher. I find it’s possible to cope with some but not all of these things at once, so today I’ve had to give in and use my maintenance contract to call in some help. Unfortunately this also means some serious de-cluttering and scouring of work surfaces will have to take place to enable the heating engineers to get to the switch without injuring themselves or causing a major landslide in the kitchen.

Interestingly (or perhaps not) I am also very suspicious of the new lights in my office at work, which seem to be pursuing some agenda of their own, switching themselves  on and off intermittently as if to prove their power over me. We no longer have an actual light switch; instead they work out what to do depending on whether a rare ray of sunshine appears at one side of the windowsill and whether I sit for too long reading my Kindle at lunchtime.

Apart from an exponential increase in my levels of paranoia, this weekend is looking as if it will be much the same as the last one, with lots of little things that demand my attention: at the moment I am relying on memory to tell me I need to get hold of a small wooden bowl (done) and go down to the Money Museum this afternoon to try and source some replica coins, but one of the things I’ve been putting off doing is reading the props list to establish the scale of activity required of me. Yes, there really is a Money Museum, by the way. I will report back on it later.

In ‘other news’, George has moved into the conservatory now that he thinks we’re safe from snow and extreme cold. I just hope he’s right!

George the cat

George’s new favourite spot

 

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