
Friday 12th July 2019
Scots Gaelic: Dihaoine 12 Luchar 2019
01:30hrs: I woke up with a start, and in surprisingly good spirits, beyond one’s expectations, considering my physical and mental health situation. This worried me somewhat. Naturally, this was most unnatural for me. Hehe!
I was out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, grotty and fading grungy-beige coloured, rickety-recliner, in no time, and with no seriously hard pains or troubles (Summat else to fret about, this is all so incredible to me! Haha!)
I noticed later, the moon seemed to be red and low, in the night sky. So, I opened the unwanted light & view blocking kitchen window, with the glass to clean that is unreachable, and took this terrible photo. It was drizzling a bit outside.
Back to the computerisationing. The fingers and hands, in fact, apart from the dancing leg, all the other right limbs were not playing up at all! Even the Virgin Media was going well (I beg that I don’t regret saying this later!). Only three wee-wees were needed over the hours it took to do the post. Every one now of the RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee) style. Which was fair-enough for me; at least I could tell when things had stopped, cause the pain eased off. Haha!
Many hours later, I got the post all finished and sent it off to WordPress. Then I realised I had not taken the morning medications yet. What a fertummelt old fool I am!
As I opened the unwanted light & view blocking new window to take a shot of below, I took a blind shot. This being due to my fear of using the stepladder and coming off of it again manifestly, perspicuously, and colliding with the floor, and ending up with back pain and a bruise on my bonce! When I leant out to take the picture, the smell was a delight to my nostrils. It was obviously the petrichor of the late evening downp
The clouds looked nice but were later covered in a light mist or fog, as was the distant views.
I stopped doing the blog and made up a Morrison order for next week.
The door chimes rang out. It was the engineer who’d come to fit the new communication portal on the wall.
He moved the clothing off of the hooks in the hall and got on with fitting the console. He soon had the job done and commenced to speedily bamboozle me the instructions on how to use the communicator. A good job he left me several A4 leaflets on it. He said he would go down and try out the system.
As he left, the Fire Sprinkler fitter team arrived. They were plainly an expert, well-trained, demolition crew. After a while; Amidst the door slamming, drilling, knocking and general audial mayhem, I started to make up the Nottingham City Centre Hobble Photographicalisations. But I didn’t get it finished…
I was in a picklement. Hoping I might save some of the Coreldraw work, when and if the power returns, no Emergency Wrislet, no landline telephone etc. Nobody explained or said anything to me. I had no idea what had happened. Other than the belief that the team had made a faux pa of some sort, and none of them knew what the problem was, what they had cocked-up, or how to get the electricity back on. They had blokes of sorts of shades coming and going, but no information for me. It happened at 09:25hrs. At 09:49hrs, a chap came in asking for a key to the electricity-box in the outer hallway. I explained that the one I had, an electrician waltzed off with it. Then his colleagues called him back outside. I followed, and there were six blokes around the opened box.
The door slamming returned, they had wedged mine open, though. In fact, both fire-doors were stuck open!
I cleaned the emptied glass jars and bottles and took them down to the recycling bin. A chap nipped in front of me to put his wine and spirits bottle in. I said: “Alcoholics first, mate!” He saw the funny side and laughed! I went back up, with thoughts of having a shower in my demented brain. I was losing it here! I fond two blokes investigating the electricity box. One told me they were expecting an SSE and British Gas engineers to arrive. I need them both because of the convoluted mixture of suppliers in use! Hmm!
10:50hrs, The banging of doors started again. Then the shouting mixed in with mumbling?
Then, as I settled to read the book, I spotted two of the missing items from last week. Both were under the 1963 falling to pieces, second-hand Hopewell’s G-Plan, cabinet. A pod pea, and an air spray cap. Hehehe!
I put the book down after a few chapters of the book and went to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden’s Temporary HQ. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationistical Meeting Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Where things like crockery and pottery get stolen from, Rumourmongering Clinic, and somewhere to rest while waiting for the bus, Portakabin. I was lucky enough to catch Julie and told her about my problem. No answer or advice, just acknowledgement. So I hobbled back to the flat, no doubt she will get in touch with the relevant department and let me know.
Julie called at the flat and told me an electrician from Nottingham City Homes will be calling and will sort the problem out for me.
14:25hrs: A man called from Great Western Electricity? Another arrived as I was talking to the first one. I could tell them nothing. All the sprinkler men had made another mess and gone again. I suggested he calls at the hut.
I studied the leaflets about the new intercom and entrance panel screen. But being such an irritated and now tired state as well, the advice and pictures were not being absorbed well at all.
14:30hrs. An electrician arrived from Nottingham City Homes and set about sorting the problems.
Then the Sprinkler men returned, a little door banging, mess making, cover cutting and drilling followed. Then a chap said, they were going to clean up as they had finished now and would be on their way. This gave me a little heart -they were going to clean up!
Here’s what I had to clean up. The inside and outer hallways.
Shortly, true to his word, the power was back on. I got the kettle on and updating this post.
Which took me a couple of more hours to get up to here.
I was way too tired and irritated at life and its Inchcock-bound Whoopsiedangleplops and disasters, to fully appreciate the fodder but was glad I made up the sarnies earlier. Those French fries were terrible, so foul – then it dawned on me…
I’m more bent-out-of-shape and forlorn, woebegone and Angry with life than ever! It’s been four horribly horrendously hurtful-to-live days now, and I’m getting more irritable, cantankerous, short-fused, huffy and exasperated than ever.
I wonder if I can claim against the Sprinkler company? Loss of the food, Stopping my getting out for fresh fodder, causing undue-suffering, my lack of sleep, damaging the wall, radiator paint, and me! Hehe! I’ll try my best to catch up with the Nottingham City Homes Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Housing Patch Manager and Razzle Magazine Model, Angela Gould, and ask for her advice on this.
I had to get up for a failed wee-wee and washed the tray and plate etc.
I took this photo as the night neared 21:00hrs, six hours later than my usual head-down time.
I was too weary for any recrimination and accusation to be mused over.
What a miserable, frustrating, hope-robbing, enthusiasm destroying, and crap day!
Yours faithfully; from a pathetically, persecuted, unlucky, had enough, depressed, pee’d-off, and shattered, Inchcock. Tsk!
You managed to get all the details in after the power outage. I think it was a plot between the sprinkler guys and the DCUKers suckers you pissed off. That’s a magnificent Dagwood sandwich you stacked together. Too bad the fries were bad.
Hi, Tim. Getting to kip so late, I was nervous of getting up late to finish the blog. But, as you will see, I woke up dead early after a couple of hours, and got up and at it.
I am shattered! Hehe!
I must keep my trap shut in future.
It’s (the fries) with the freezer going off, I think.
Tsk!
TTFN, Sir.