I already knew I was going to be busy on Thursday. Raving busy in fact. So the plan was to just concentrate on one job until it was done and then move on to the next one. Easy, right? Wrong.
I was just about to move from the living room to the office when the phone rang. The land line, not the mobile phone. The only time the land line rings, it’s usually one of those spam callers, so I expected to answer it and hang up straight away. But the display told me it was a regular call, and so I answered it.
What a good job I did.
It was the conveyancing solicitor for the sale of our parents’ house (a) asking if there was any heat on in the house (my sister and her family still take it in turns to stay there as we don’t want to leave it empty, so yes it probably was), and (b) telling us that while it’s unlikely to complete before Christmas, it’s still a possibility that we may complete in the middle of next week! 😲
When that call was finished, I of course had to call my sister as she would still need notice to fully clear the property. And that phone call lasted upwards of 2 hours. Two. Hours. If that’s not a clear indication that we really ought to get together at least once in a while for a good natter, then nothing is.
I still hadn’t connected to the internet or anything, so the next thing I did was check my emails as the solicitor and my sister alluded to an email that was sent that morning. It was just from the solicitor letting us know that they were chasing the buyer’s solicitor for suggested dates.
I finally made it to my desk and had done a few minutes’ work at least when the phone went again. This time from the poet making his usual midday check-in and to let me know that the fencer (not Zorro 🤺) wanted to pop around to see if something was the right size ahead of coming to replace the fence next week.
I probably read another sentence of my work when the doorbell went. It was the fencer. (Still not Zorro. 🤺) So he did his thang and we had a quick chat too that finished with him asking if he could come Sunday morning instead of next week. I pointed out that he had access if we were out, but he said he needed a power socket or he’d know to bring a generator with him. I said Sunday was probably fine.
Eventually… I got around to work again, but by now it was 2:30pm. (Sigh.) The day was practically over. Nevertheless, I plodded on and did what I could. I broke for tea (cooked by the poet), then carried on working until 10:30pm.
Today, this job must be finished. I want to enjoy the weekend with a free conscience.
Have a goodun!
