Tuesdays suck gophers* normally. I don’t know why that should be, but in my experience, it’s invariably so. Today is no exception. It’s a grey, bleugh sort of day and, although it’s not actually raining, the skies would like to assure you that it’s definitely on their To Do List, although they can’t be entirely sure when they might get round to it. I have been applying for jobs. In the gloom. And even though it’s not cold outside, it’s chilly in the house. Or perhaps it’s just that I’ve been sitting down for so long, staring at page after page of job listings, most of which are completely unsuitable for yours truly. I’m turning this house into a Den of Slack today.
But then I thought I might clean out the boiler. ‘If it’s going to be a grey skies and ash day,’ I thought to myself, ‘let’s go the whole hog and get filthy dirty to boot.’ Except that I don’t trust that when I switch it off it will have the manners to start back up again when I press the ‘ON’ button. (Frankly, I don’t feel like being cold if I can avoid it.) So the boiler is half cleaned and that will be a step in the right direction for now.
Favourite Engineer called out of the blue this morning. He was on his way to Cavan and fancied a natter. Always happy to oblige there. Made me feel quite homesick for the lunacy of my last job, but only for the people not the bullshit and arrogance of the management which, allegedly, remain unchanged. You know when hearing someone’s voice gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling? Well that. It’s about a month since I last spoke to him and I am no longer at the point when I miss him every day. It’s nicer like this.
And that’s it really.
*Through a garden hose. I can’t recall where I first came upon the phrase but it endures as an accurate indication of extreme suckage. Due thanks, I am sure, should go to one of our American cousins for their fine imagery.
