The cogs fall into gear and it's time to start moving.

So a BT engineer came round to the house today to fix our phoneline. Apparently it wasn't working or something. We're only going to be using it for the internet but it needed to be fixed. He was amazed at how badly the lines had been fitted by the people who built the building originally. It seems that workmen often feel the last person to have been there before them was rubbish. It's sort of one of the rules.

Talking of rules, what exactly is the protocol when there's someone like that in your house? I didn't have any milk so I couldn't make him a cup of tea. I just sort of stood there as he explained stuff to me which frankly made no sense at all. "Oh yeah, that's not the master socket that, it needs a capacitor. We'll do a line check you see. Now these wires here, they're not on the BT standard colour coding. Cowboys, whoever put them in you see. So ..." etc.

I just sort of nodded and said "yeah?" and "oh right" whenever it seemed appropriate. It was very boring watching him work but I wasn't sure if I should sort of say, y'know, "get on with it then... I'll be over here reading my comic books" or not. So I didn't I just sort of hung about.

One of the things I always consider with people like that is how rubbish I am when it comes to anything practical. Like changing a fuse? No idea how to do that. Changing a lightbulb? I'd rather not. Might get electrocuted or something. I'm not even going to think about trying to fix my car or change a tyre. No chance.

What am I going to do when I finally have to grow up?*


*A computer game with The Hoff in it.


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