Waiting for the plasterers
It's one of those mornings where things are vaguely wrong and I cannot find my indoor trousers. I know I didn't put them out with the rubbish because I went down and found my sack from yesterday morning and checked. They aren't in the dirty washing and they are not down the side of the bed, because I looked. And, oh, I hung them up on the door and they fell off onto the floor and that's where they still are, behind the door.
All of which goes to show that I am a brain-dead idiot this morning.
And am waiting for the plasterers, after waking up at 7.30 and rushing through bath and breakfast so as to be cleared up before they were supposed to get here at 8.
On the other hand, I woke up with a possible title for the Superheroes book: The Freedom Of Power - Reading Superheroes in Comics and Film. I probably won't get that past Palgrave, but it will be the title in my head from now on.
I am quite sorrowful this morning, because I just found out that one of the elderly people on my staircase just died yesterday. Jackie Gibbs was a delightful woman who coped surprisingly well with the illness and death of her husband a couple of years ago, and had built a new life out of taking her yappy little Scots terrier for walks and fooling around on the internet. She was our liaison with the Estate Manager and one of those people who enjoy running things.
I never knew her all that well - she liked us and we occasionally ran errands for her and her late husband, especially when he was sick. I helped her with the computer a few times and with her husband. She was feeling poorly about a week ago, and went into hospital, and never came out.
This is, I suppose, how most of us die. We get old, and we get sick, and it all goes very quickly at the end.
I will post about Transfabulous later, when I am somewhat more in the mood.