Penetrating...

...damp (rather than "Rising Damp" - but have you googled image searched for "Penetrating Damp"? It isn't pretty... *shudder* Actually, some of it is pretty- in the pretty sort of way that black mould can create interesting patterns type thing, but I digress...)

My flat would appear to have it. It is dripping down my bedroom wall, peeling off the paper, leaving a kind of strange ectoplasm where the cheap emulsion on the wall has separated out into its constituent parts.

The plumber my landlord sent round is not happy. His precise words? "Oh shit..." A pipe wrench does fuck all good when the problem is hidden behind a wall and comes from the flat above.

Not a clue what this will mean for me - although I guess at some point my bedroom will need dehumidifying and painting. With better paint.

In other news *shuffles papers* ...

My gums bloody hurt. The anaesthetic started to wear off before the procedure had finished again. And I'm now onto my third or fourth dentist. As my current one remarked, I probably know the consultant better than she does. After all, I at least know his name and don't just refer to him as "the tall fella"... [*waves* Hello Charley...]

For this Friday's surgery I'm opting for the anaesthetic that gives me a racing heart and palpitations for about 2 hours: my heart beats like a fucked clock and I feel like I've run a marathon at the end of it- I'd rather cope with that than feeling the cutting, slicing and stabbing in my mouth. It won't make the healing time any quicker but it might cut out some of the bleeding and surgical pain. With any luck this will be the last 2 hour appointment. With my luck? Who could say...

My encounters with the Housing Benefits folk is getting increasingly frustrating. I would appear to have acquired a taciturn pen-pal - today's emailed missive was entirely in capital letters. The short version is I might get some money, it should be in my bank account, but isn't. The long version requires a dark and stormy night, a pipe, an open fire and a bottle of a decent malt to recount (it's that kind of horror story...)

Oh, and I start work on Thursday. Theo has been calming me down (I'm already getting the non-teaching equivalent of "first day at school nerves": What if the big boys and girls don't like me? What if my dinner money gets nicked? Will I have anyone to play with? When is home time?) The reality is starting to kick in. Time to be a responsible adult again!

Holy shit...