Another day spent surreptitiously circling and finally trapping and finishing off some work, that has to be delivered tomorrow.
“See the hunter distracted from his play by an especially trenchant comment on Metafilter, spending several hours forming his reply only to delete it all. By this time his prey has escaped and he has to track it down all over again.” In a David Attenborough voice.
That’s it really. Sundays are like that sometimes. Did I tell you that the thing with the funnel and the plastic tubing works beautifully and would be a fabulous thing were it not for the fact that there shouldn’t be water running down it in the first place. But I imagine I’ve covered that in some detail over the three months that…
As I said to someone a few weeks ago, I’m a sort of Bizarro Midas: everything I touch turns to stupid. I run through the details of things, and it’s a fairly logical progression that anyone in their right minds would follow, but for some reason I’m the only one to follow it through to the bitter end. Certainly the only person I can think of who’s planning a network of indoor piping to cope with the unwanted moistness.