Still no progress

Still haven't started that Swansea Borough Police article for A History of Swansea. I was about to get cracking on it last night, when a horrible hullabaloo erupted outside. A drunken couple conducted a blazing row the length and breadth of the street, which carried on for at least an hour, with them both striding up and down the street several times. Then I could hear them, in the middle of arguing, discussing breaking into a house. At that point, even though I had my lights off, they became aware I was watching them, as the light from my laptop screen caused my shadow to be cast across my voile nets. So they buggered off at top speed, despite their intoxicated state.

I was just settling back down, when something blew in the fuse box. I had light, but none of my electrical sockets were working. My laptop battery was fully charged, but with no working power socket for the cable modem, I couldn't access the Internet, and I needed to do some online research. I knew all I needed to do was flip the trip switch, to get the sockets working again. But I know, from past experience, that the switch is so stiff, my arthritic fingers just don't have the strength to move it. So I rang the Swansea Housing Association emergency number, but by 5.30 am, there was still so sign of an electrician. I was furious by now, as I'd been up all night ,waiting - and I had an early start this morning, with painters arriving at nine. In desperation, I grabbed a wooden spoon and used the handle to flip the switch down and back up again, which did the trick. After cancelling the electrician's call-out, I tried to get some sleep, without success.

Anyway, the painter's here now, and my kitchen is starting to take shape, at long last. I think I'll attempt a start on my Swansea Borough Police article, even though I have a hysterical cat bugging me, as he hates strangers being in the house. Every time the painter makes a slight noise, speaks, or coughs, the cat leaps over the top of the settee, on to the radiator behind it, and all I can see is a worried little grey face peeping over the top of the couch. Silly bugger.