My world disappears into a plughole

Having casually assumed that I would be transmogrified into anti-matter this morning when the megaparticle nuclear velociraptor was switched on I’ve been letting things slide on the domestic front to a considerable degree for weeks. I haven’t blogged at all. There is something of Chernobyl about my sock drawer. So, waking up early this afternoon to the discovery I wasn’t in a black hole was consequently a bit depressing. All this washing I’ve got to catch up on.

And, as if by magic, by order of some cosmic act of buffoonery… no water in the pipes. Not in the kitchen, not in the lav, not the shower.

But there’s nothing to be done. The Council blamed Thames Water. Thames Water blamed the Council. Thames Water asked me to go out into the neighbourhood and canvass nearby buildings for analagous drought issues, because if I could find a neighbour in another building with no water they might accept that it’s their fault. I told them I can’t be seen in public without having had a shower. Deadlock. The Council are going to send someone out within four hours, by which time I might have turned into Pete Doherty.

Thank fuck for the lifeline that is the interweb, so that the world might continue to revolve around me, though my resurrection has had to be postponed as a ‘tomorrow problem’.