Stormy Monday

Most of the time I love sleeping in a loft conversion -- the warm air drifts up in the winter and you get all the light that's going, and in the summer you can open the skylight at one end and doors at the other and it's like being in a huge breezy tent. On a clear night, at the right time of month, I sleep bathed in moonlight. But when there's a gale blowing, the extractor fan clatters and the rain pounds next to your head. You don't sleep so well, and all your dreams are stormy.

The plumbing's picking up a bit, and I have a job on this morning. Not a scary there-on-your-own-out-of-your-depth one, but a difficult one. One so difficult that J the plumber is doing it himself, and I get to help. These are my favourite kinds. I make the coffee and say 'why is that doing that?' and 'where is that water coming from?', safe in the knowledge that he is in control of the situation. Or at least giving a good impression of it.

But even with these jobs, I don't sleep so well either, possibly because I have to get up a clear 90 minutes earlier than I do on an NGO X day. *This* morning however, the effing storm has made J the plumber 90 minutes late, something to do with needing to chop a fallen tree up. So I am double sleep-deprived, and still here, with a full extra hour to get nervous.

I expect I'll stop getting nervous one day. That's what normally happens.

And I think I will paint my bedroom storm colour.

joella