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freckles_and_doubtSo, a day of infinite distractions and minor crises, mostly for some reason related to the ceiling. (Giant leak! where the useless plumber people cracked tiles installing the solar water geyser. And terrain of terror for the phone cabling guy, who declined to fuffle around up there installing cables, on the grounds that it's full of great piles of cryptically-arranged Germanic junk and he was a short-arse type and the gaps between beams are rather long). This has led me to wander around all day vaguely convinced it was the 13th. Have just realised now that it's the 14th, and a bit late in the day to be phoning my much-loved and respected materal parent, whose birthday it is. Phooey. Sorry, mother. Happy birthday. Bugger. Where the hell did this month go, anyway?
Other than the minor floods, the continual threat of a short-arse cabling tech crashing through the ceiling, the cat lying on my mouse, the nice cleaning lady whirlwinding around the house and the fact that the Hobbit sat down on something very, very muddy about halfway through the day and insisted on wandering around the house with a black-stained butt and tail, leaving streaks, it was actually a fairly productive work-from-home day. I cleaned out my Inbox of Doom, did the last few credit transfers, and ruthlessly selected the interview pool for the next batch of orientation leaders. (They're still all prefects and Head Girls and stuff. I get intimidated, having never been either, owing, presumably, to being a Hopeless Dweeb at school). The mad productivity is managing to keep the Puritan Work Ethic under control, reducing the levels of hideous guilt about even legitimately not going to work. This weekend I finish marking the vampire essays. Such is my exciting life.
Also, the great, epic, three-month Telkom saga is possibly reaching a conclusion, with the cabling half done, and the nice man promises faithfully to come and finish it tomorrow, once the Evil Landlord has done all the roof-rootling bits. I hope this actually happens: he did seem a sweet tech guy, and I fed him tea and biscuits and everything, and ruthlessly suppressed the impulse to chain him up in the cellar so he couldn't vanish into the night leaving us half-cabled. To such desperate ends does Telkom drive us. Almost.
Other than the minor floods, the continual threat of a short-arse cabling tech crashing through the ceiling, the cat lying on my mouse, the nice cleaning lady whirlwinding around the house and the fact that the Hobbit sat down on something very, very muddy about halfway through the day and insisted on wandering around the house with a black-stained butt and tail, leaving streaks, it was actually a fairly productive work-from-home day. I cleaned out my Inbox of Doom, did the last few credit transfers, and ruthlessly selected the interview pool for the next batch of orientation leaders. (They're still all prefects and Head Girls and stuff. I get intimidated, having never been either, owing, presumably, to being a Hopeless Dweeb at school). The mad productivity is managing to keep the Puritan Work Ethic under control, reducing the levels of hideous guilt about even legitimately not going to work. This weekend I finish marking the vampire essays. Such is my exciting life.
Also, the great, epic, three-month Telkom saga is possibly reaching a conclusion, with the cabling half done, and the nice man promises faithfully to come and finish it tomorrow, once the Evil Landlord has done all the roof-rootling bits. I hope this actually happens: he did seem a sweet tech guy, and I fed him tea and biscuits and everything, and ruthlessly suppressed the impulse to chain him up in the cellar so he couldn't vanish into the night leaving us half-cabled. To such desperate ends does Telkom drive us. Almost.
