Yesterday was not a good day.  Nope.  In fact it turned out to be a bit of a disaster.  It started off well enough as these days often do.  We got to work at about 7.00 as usual and went through emails and deleted spam.  We’d had our first brew and had started a bit of a ‘discussion’.  Nothing major mind, just a bit of healthy marital bickering and in the midst of making my point I leaned backwards onto the desk.  There was a loud crack as the desk split down the middle.  It hasn’t fully broken but it’s touch and go and now the clutter has to be split in two and placed on either side to stop it bowing.

Unfortunately it didn’t stop there.  Dan came round to add new taps to the bathroom sink.  Funnily enough it was the same man who had fitted the carpet, decorated the hall and fitted the loft hatch.  At the same time he decided to fix the toilet which has been ’slow flushing’ for weeks.  Unfortunately he didn’t alert us to this and then ‘popped out’ to get some parts, leaving us with no toilet and no water.  We waited as long as we possibly could before dashing home to use the facilities.  And then just to put the top hat on it we walked into our kitchen to find water leaking from the ceiling. 

This of course did nothing for our stress.  We stood there incredulous with the two cats, looking up at the water dripping out of the light fitment, wondering where the hell it was coming from.   In the end it took three hours for three plumbers to take up the floorboards and find the source of the leak.  Meanwhile I spent an unexpectedly pleasant and relaxing afternoon reading ‘44 Scotland Street’. 

This renewed sense of calm didn’t last of course.  I received a telephone call at 6.30 to tell me that Dan had cracked the pot and that the toilet would have to wait until mañana.