I may as well not write anything else. Except of course, that’s impossible because of the disproportional size of my loquacious gland. A few people have commented the steaming content from the back of the hedgehog has declined recently. Not the quality tho – that had nowhere to go.
It’s not just laziness. There is much happening that needs expressing in standard rant format, but time is against me. As is everything else, because the alternate title of this post would be “God Hates Me“. Let me take you through the many and varied ways that I know this to be the truth.
Sunday: Tried to build yet another model plane. This time a glider, bought at the tenuous extreme of the logic scale that I could fly it without instruction. But not build it without instruction from the evidence of extreme brokeness and confusion. Victory only snatched from the jaws of defeat by the tactical substitution of “wife” for “husband” in the building department*
Monday : Extremely important meeting made doubly scary by use of new technology at 1pm. Lots of time for testing and preparation if one leaves the house at 6:45am. Three hours later I’m marooned on the M5 after some chump set fire to his lorry. The last 90 minutes have seen me travel 3 miles and use about two gallons of fuel.
Finally arrive at the office, at the precise time the equipment breaks. Frantic attempts to fix it (I refer you to previous comment re: hammer) fail to do anything but add custom dents to a twenty grand technological marvel. That is now competely FUBAR. Cancel meeting, grump off home. Get stuck in another traffic jam.
Tuesday : Postman finally braves the artic tundra and icy wastes of Herefordshire and delivers final bits to finishing model. Spend Tuesday evening not finishing it. Carol does all the difficult stuff, my only job is to set up the electronic servo things.
This I fail to do correctly, which means replaying the wing affixation technique. Only in reverse leading to sounds of tearing, knashing of teeth and the opening of another beer. Apparently “yeah, yeah it’s all done, fine, go for it” shall not again be allowed to pass without a peer review.
Wednesday : Wake up with Hangover. Decide this is my week to sit in traffic jams and enjoy another one for 45 minutes. Apparently caused because for every sane driver, there is a cock in a BMW who believes Ice doesn’t happen to important people. Spend a frustrating day in the office with technology being about as reliable as a child who promises to tidy their bedroom AFTER being given a treat.
Slink off at 6pm into snowy wilderness and meet pal to go riding. Attempts not to go by forgetting lights and some clothing are brushed off as excuses. Can’t real ride uphill as snow has turned to deep slush. Then it gets deep on the top so more pushing. Still a nice downhill to come, except that’s a push and a fall as well. My “powder” technique of getting off the back and letting the front wheel surf through the snow works extremely well tho.
For two seconds. Then I fall off again.
It was horrible, pointless, stupid. We rode an epic nine kilometres in 90 minutes. At no point did we ever attain a speed I’d call “interesting“. Which didn’t stop it being properly scary when the front wheel jacknifed like the dickhead BMW driver. My feet were blocks of ice, and the last run through the woods was muddy and sketchy in equal amounts.
But it was exactly what I needed. I am un-grumpied. More later, much to tell, projects moving, walls being pulled down, interesting cracks appearing that may mean the roof is about to fall down.
* I’ve decided my problem is akin to the old proverb “For a man who only knows how to use a hammer, all the world is a nail”
