From Dusk 'till Dawn

Feel like I'm in a bit of a dream state at the moment. My whole waking day is a bit like being in a really dull movie. There are high points, like driving to and from work with TSM, or when Mrs W or Mrs M do something even weirder than usual (a not infrequent occurrence). But on the whole it is just like sitting and watching someone else's domestic webcam. Maybe a zombie will crash in through the French windows and liven it all up. Not sure whether that would be a good thing or not.

We passed three vehicles on the M25 today with different signs on them. I idled away my journey to work by putting them together and coming up with the following Mission Statement:

"From inception to completion, our passion for perfection means that failure is not an option". 

The first four words came from a kitchen fitter's van; passion for perfection looked like it was something to do with logistics and failure is not an option was a bumper sticker on a 4x4 that turned out to be being driven by a very dull looking man on the verge of falling asleep at the wheel.

Anyway I quite like it as bullshit mission statements go. I mean, when did anyone have an honest one like "we're crap but at least we're cheap" or "we provide meaningless stuff to people with more money than sense". So its all nonsense anyway.

I did have a couple of other high moments today. I noticed the coffee pot in the kitchen had a label on the top that said "Push Down Gently". Which for some reason made me think of a sign you might find in a genteel Victorian house of ill repute. And Mr P and I sang "Down By The Riverside" by the photocopier, although he fumbled the words whereas I had them perfectly (my dad used to play it and sing it in the kitchen on his twelve string guitar when I was a kid). Oh and I had a very supportive conversation, which was partly about me and which was partly about the next lot of changes we are encountering, which was nice. Oh and I lost three and a half pounds in my first month of dieting which isn't bad. That would be nearly two stones by the time of my birthday in September, if I keep it up.

Life is a myriad of little things we rarely notice. I like to think I am like Leonardo Da Vinci who watched men spitting on walls and tried to divine cosmic patterns from the marks they left. 

I am now going upstairs to work on the hole filling project. The thing is, it takes three nights; one to fill the holes with a papier-mâché type substance; a second to finish them with a filler gun; and a third to sand them smooth. Nothing in life is simple. That's another lesson of Leonardo's. What was it he said? "Art is never finished, only abandoned". Mind you, we say that about a lot of projects in the NHS as well...