I entered the office environment feeling positive and had a generally positive day. Lunchtime was spent in the barber's shop where I asked him to cut so close that it's no surprise that he put a huge amount of pressure on my face with his clippers. He went so close I nearly got a vasectomy. Badum tish. I didn't. He didn't even go as low as my chest. However, he did give me a couple of shaving grazes. I'll heal, I'm sure.
It was cheap.
Lunch was nice and healthy. This healthiness may be a case of too little too late, since I weighed in heavier than I'd hoped when I got weighed later in the day. I've put a bit of weight on. I'll have to be careful over the next week. It's probably the excesses of the weekend and perhaps the previous week too. Weird. It might just be a temporary aberration. I don't know. Never mind. I'm still basically on the wagon, so it can't be the end of the world.
I got home with a DIY plan. I had to finish the jobs I'd started the previous week. I had the benefit of the screws I bought in the hardware shop on the Island. I'd also had the benefit of some thinking I'd done over the weekend. I quickly attached my shelf to its brackets (Spax 12.5mm screws - genius) and then set myself onto the task of completing the plasterboard boxing around my pipes. This involved attaching a cross piece near the base of the boxing into which I'll be screwing the new section of skirting board that will ultimately adorn (or should that be festoon) it. Then I screwed the plasterboard on with a bunch of the drywall screws I'd bought. I had radio 4 playing and life was good.
Then the hard bit. I had to remove the ceiling paper from the ceiling (obviously). I had some blade scrapers, I had the entire evening. Surely this would be easy. After a lot of scraping, I was starting to feel like I should just pay the plasterer to reboard the ceiling. Then I hit on the idea of using the steamer as well as the blade scraper. Bingo. The sharp blade and the steam worked well in unison. I was up a ladder for quite some time and it was effort, but it all came off. I was ready for the plasterer to come and do his thing. Finally.
I had also to tidy up the site so that he wouldn't trip over rubble, wallpaper crap and so on. However, that could wait.
At this point I got weighed. I didn't care. I deserved a subway. I got a subway.
Then I went home, tidied the site up, got a lot of acrid dust in my nose, wished I'd worn my mask, and then I got washed. I washed the dust out of my hair. Well, I had no hair - I'd been shorn to within inches of my fertility, remember? But I washed the hair off too. There were bits of hair on my head, clinging on for dear life. The hairs which continue to grow are definitely survivors of the folicle holocaust which is progressing over my scalp, making me a balding coot. So, the hairs which remain are the heroes - and I had them massacred by a man with some shears and then I washed them down the shower. We never know how to treat our heroes!
Clean, I went and sat with my computer. I didn't use the opportunity to catch up on emails or do anything vaguely useful regarding my finances. The nearest I got was internet bank transferring some money so I could pay the builder the following day. I came home to find some new doors sitting in the house. These doors will be fitted over the course of the next few days and they need paying for. Of course they do. Everything needs paying for.
Anyway, I sat and worked on the CD and sound cues for the show which I am teching this week. I had been concerned that this hadn't been sorted out the previous afternoon, but it's not a huge amount of work, and I had the salient points in my notes. Once I had the cues all burned to disc I could relax. I would have read a book, but it was later than book reading time and I had the builder due first thing. I also had a 9am meeting in the office to get to.
Mondays can be a bad start to the week. It was ok today.