do you mind if I just shut the door on you? is it my singing? no, its your whistling, ha ha. actually its the sound of the circular saw buzzing through the floor of the kids bedroom that’s vibrating me across the office floor like davros or whatever his name was from doctor who. I’ve got a bit of a bad stomach today as well, so I’m probably green too. all I need now is to get my medusa headset on and I’ll probably get a free pass to some kind of convention where I can spend my time sifting through back copies of radio times and betamax videos, occasionally looking up and nodding to a cyberman with a sea dragon mask in one hand and a cheque book in the other.
so we agree on a ‘100 mil’ panel and some beading that is apparently called ‘ocra’ or ‘ocar’ or something and then gary gets to work on the wardrobe doors. he’s going to fill in all the little gaps as well. ah. after that, he’s going to start on the shelves in the living room that I haven’t designed yet, but all I know is that they have to have one shelf about ‘800 mil’ off the ground that’s deep enough to fit a shiny new turntable on so that I can finally, after about 15 years, stack the vinyl underneath and then pull out and dust off my mono copy of piper at the gates of dawn and cue it up and sit back in the leather sofa and relax. its probably at that point I’ll realise that piper at the gates of dawn is really a horrible screechy wailing noise, especially in mono, and so I’ll whip it off, delve back into the warped back catalogue again and pull out hex education hour or 1997 wtf’s going on or something instead and then do some air posturing in front of the telly while I’m reading the sleeve notes on unknown pleasures. I might even dig out who’s next and do a spot of windmilling, if nobody’s looking
but right now, the sawing has started again. I can’t really hear it that much through the victorian walls inside this house and over the fan battle of the w2100z and the 8400 and the bionaire (which the w2100z wins quite easily, naturally) and the passing traffic through the open window because its sunny again and my south-facing office is approaching the volcano zone. but its there. just niggling away like a rat chewing your skull. so I expect to lose it completely by the end of the day and go rampaging down to M&Ms with a sawn-off bike pump or something, demanding they had over the soft rolls before anyone gets hurt. dammit. there it goes again. scuse me gary, can I just borrow that saw for a minute?