Lovecraft

was seemingly a writer who liked the use of the word “antediluvian”. I also like this word. Today the torrential downpours across the UK flooded my workplace - my office was an inch deep (2.5cm for those non-imperialists) in rainwater. I got soaked. And I didn’t have a change of clothes, so my feet were decidedly wrinkly by the time I got home and took my shoes and socks off some 7 hours after getting wet. This is the second time this week I have been covered in water of questionable purity.

On Wednesday my neighbour beneath came up to ask whether there was a leak in the kitchen. “No, I don’t think so.” I replied. “I’ll go and take a look”. Fatal mistake.

Beneath the sink four inlets (two plugholes, a washing machine and a dishwasher) all meet in a kind of Spaghetti Junction of white and grey piping). I hadn’t used the dishwasher or washing machine, so I thought it must be the sink(s). I took everything out of the cupboard - why do the British insist on storing the most random things beneath the kitchen sink (paintbrushes, putty, flower pots…) I saw there was some water marking, but this may have been from previous floods with the previous tenants. Then I saw it, a small drip every couple of seconds. OK, I thought. As I’m here, I’ll undo the pipes, give them a rinse in some hot water and put them back together - tighten the dripping one and we’ll all be happy as Larry. Fatal mistake number 2.

As I began to unscrew the dripping joint, it rose to become a veritable arc of slightly dirty water. Fortunately I had placed a bowl beneath the plumbing, so I continued, logically assuming that as the pressure dropped, so the water would gently drain into the bowl. Fatal error number three.

The pressure did drop, but the brown water now poured everywhere. And as I sought to stem the flow, so random jets would build up and shoot out at all angles between my fingers. So I now have a bowl full of dark brown water, a cupboard covered in drops of dark brown water. And me, covered in drops of dark brown water. Fun.

So, one bowl full of water later, and it stops. I can remove the pipe, take out the festering filth that has built up to cause the blockage, clean it, and put it all back together. Only this last part doesn’t quite work. One of the pipes no longer seems ot fit, and drips as water comes down from the sink. So I unscrew it and take a look. And the seal has gone. Which was most likely part of the problem to begin with. So I head down to the local hardware store (yes, we still have one - no Homebase or B&Q here, thank you), get a seal (or should that be washer) and put it all back together.

And so far it has been OK. Touch wood.

Thanks and apologies to Mikhail Zoshchenko.

Arnold Schwarzenegger

I will be on sabbatical leave from the diary for the next couple of weeks - I am snowed under at work and looking at a computer screen is about the last thing I want to do when I get in in the evening.

Leaving do

for a dear dear friend tonight. Four (or was it five?) pints of Staropramen, potato wedges and very good company. Pizza soon, then bed.

Today

is stocktaking day at work. My favourite day. No (hopefully) dealing with computers. Just lots of measuring shelves and recording values of books on an adding machine. Bliss.

This week’s musical adventure

Little Brother - The Minstrel Show
Ben Westbeech - Welcome to the Best Years of Your Life
Black Dog - Book of Dogma
TTC - 3615TTC
Quasimoto - The Unseen

And on the book front: Bo Burlingham - Small Giants: Companies that choose to be great instead of big.

At work again

Sundays at work are generally the best day. No phones ringing, far fewer customers than usual. A slightly unusual sense of calm across the shop as a whole. And, more importantly, it allows me the time and freedom to get around to the mindless maintainence tasks that are the bane of the network admin’s life. Without having to wait for everyone to leave. The joy of running disk defragmenters. And network traffic tools. And anti-virus scans. Now, if every day could be like this…

No comment

Thanks to toothpastefordinner.com once again for the ideal illustration of my life at present.

God

I want to go home. Work makes me want to puke.

IT

Spent 5 hours today trying to fix issues caused by the stuff we were doing last night. Fortuntely the piece of string can be used as a noose. Aretha is currently seeking to soothe my soul. Feeling the urge to watch some Bergman or read some Camus.

A piece of string

Still at work. Working on mail server. What we are doing may not work. Or it may. No idea when we will leave.