Jun 13, 2020: Eighty-Five

I’ve had a crap day today. I haven’t enjoyed any of it, particularly.

I’ve been on my own for most of the day, which is not necessarily a problem, but I foolishly said that I would do “jobs” today which has just lead to a string of instances where I’ve been getting cross with things for not doing what I want them to do.

Fill a whole in the skirting by the stairs – the hole, honestly I’m surprised that when I poked in the nozzle for the filler it didn’t come out in next door’s front room. But I did that and only got it everywhere because it used the application gun thing. And I hate them. Because they don’t stop delivering their unguents until you pop the tension on the plunger, but you generally can’t do that because you’ve got one hand on the gun and the other is either smoothing out what you’ve filled or some other thing. And it just goes everywhere and makes you sweary.

Or moving shelves to make room for the last bit of front room painting and not only is moving every book in existence a soul-destroying experience, but the shelves decide to bring the carpet with them as you move them from room to room, so you’re stuck holding a set of shelves that are too heavy for one person to move while a carpet is rolling up beneath them. And you can’t put them down because the bunched up carpet means they’re unstable and will fall, chipping them.

And things like that.

Putting up a noticeboard only for the entire wire you’re hanging it from to unravel, say. Or the tube of No More Nails to be harder to squeeze stuff out of than if it was completely sealed.

So yeah…