pip. pip. pip.

I lied. It isn't every thirty-seven seconds. It is every one minute and three seconds. This is, as it turns out, just enough time to begin to fall asleep, slipping softly into gentle slumber until suddenly PIP and I am awake again. Door shut, pillow over head, and the PIP reduces itself to a gentle peep, which would be ok except then I can't hear Mog if she needs me in the night.

I phoned the fire service this morning - they fitted it, and made sure it was one which cannot be fiddled with by anyone. They will "try to send someone out to fix it soon". Meanwhile, every one minute and three seconds, PIP!

More post this morning. A new referral for Mog; great. Except that it's not. A date when we're away, for a doctor who is the right speciality (spinal consultant) but not the man Little Fish sees. I do prefer them to have the same doctors where possible; makes combining appointments much easier. New date arranged but no change of doctor. Ho hum.

A parcel in the post again, more excitement. Except again, not really - the company who sent the Wahooligan's medical supplies here by mistake yesterday have sent the urgent replacement supplies here yet again. Not entirely impressive. What is quite impressive is the fact these are being posted from somewhere just a few minutes from his current address and yet they are still choosing to send them further rather than just around the corner...

Tia