So, it’s now 1.40pm today, I have been awake since 7am yesterday morning. After we’d got all that we could out of the bedroom and into the dry half of the flat, we went round to some friends’ for a meal (delicious, as always) then HD slept there and I worked ALL night on my thesis. I’m actually really proud of myself for doing it, I haven’t been able to do a good all-nighter since my early 20s (so, er, a couple of years then) but I stayed focused and got loads done.
There’s still more to be done than I could do and get it printed today, and in the meantime a change of plan means that I am staying in waiting for the plumber again. The plan was for the guy upstairs (whose flat apparently contains the offending pipe) to stay in for the plumber, but he knocked on the door this morning as I was getting ready to think about going to uni to say that he was going to the pub (!). I actually felt so sad for him, he was really open about his problems and that he really really needed to be there, it was actually heartbreaking. So, in the end I decided the easiest thing to do, given that I probably wouldn’t manage anything productive today if I’d gone into uni, is that I would stay in and let the plumber into the close, and phone the neighbour at the pub so he could come back and let him into his flat to get access to the pipe. It’s not exactly an ideal situation, but if I hadn’t done it this way we’d never get the water back.
The only problem is, I don’t dare drop off to sleep in case I miss the door buzzer, and my eyes are now rolling around in my head and it feels like my head is so heavy it’ll roll right off my shoulders in a minute. You know when young kids are really really fighting tiredness and all their body wants to do is go to sleep but they fight it for as long as they can? That’s what I’m like right now. I wouldn’t be surprisd if I have a stroppy tantrum in a minute.
Actually that’s not the only problem. There’s also the minor problem of having been 24 hours without water, the flat stinks, and I’m absolutely bogging. Not helped by the fact that in the rush to move the drawers out of the chest of drawers (and more importantly out of the way of Niagara Falls coming though the wall) we just took them out and piled them up in the kitchen, and it was only at the point where I thought well I can’t have a shower but at least I can wear some clean clothes that I realised my knicker drawer is right at the bottom of the pile. If I were completely with it I’d organise myself to have an expedition and move the drawers all around, but I’m just not, not right now. So here I am, unwashed, in yesterday’s clothes, DESPERATE to sleep – I think if I don’t have a tantrum I might just start dribbling instead. I’m certainly not convinced I could string more than a couple of spoken words together.
This is really doing my head in. Though for the first time in a while, I feel pretty OK about the thesis.