I opened my eyes and yawned. I peered over at the digital clock. It was blank. Husband was showing signs of moving so I nudged him and said, 'What's the time?'
He squinted at his watch. 'Quarter to nine.'
My eyes flew open. 'Quarter to nine?!'
'I might be wrong.' He went to put the light on. 'Oh, no power. There must be a power cut.'
'I don't care about that! What time is it?'
He got out of bed and moved into the daylight. 'Yes, it's quarter to nine.'
I'm supposed to be in work at 9 - to 9.30ish. I leapt out of bed and ran into the bathroom, switched on the shower. 'Oh flip, no hot water, boiler not working.'
I raced around like a demented rabbit. 'I know: I'll go and boil some water so I can at least wash my face.'
I started to run downstairs before remembering the kettle's electric too. I stopped, breathed, had another idea, 'I'll boil a saucepan of water.'
But by now I was in such a state I couldn't remember whether the hob was electric. I knew either the hob or oven was gas but couldn't remember which.
It was time to surrender. I had breakfast instead. And, as the hob was gas, put some water on to boil. Going upstairs to clean my teeth while it heated I thought, 'Oh no, my toothbrush is electric too. No, wait, it's battery.' I hadn't had my first-thing cup of tea remember.
About 10 minutes later everything came back and I was able to shower but when I was putting on my make-up the phone rang. My heart sank. A call at that time on a Friday morning probably meant there was a problem in Linden. There was. No heating. I groaned. Husband reminded me of my resolution to be a good administrator and look for the best in all things. My lip curled and twitched.
The boiler is playing up again. And again and again. It went out 5 times during the day and that was just when I bothered to relight it. We have Swansea Quilters in there all day tomorrow and they are a fiercesome band of ladies who don't take kindly to being cold. I have spent much of my day trying to contact the gasman while sourcing electric heaters we can borrow in case.
Coming home I settled down to read the emails that had accumulated in my two days away. They included another novel rejection.
I have only been home 40 minutes and have already eaten 2 Weightwatchers chocolate bars. (And if I'd had any Cadburys it would have been that too.)