It's ssstilll ccccoldd

"It's gone" I said to you yesterday. But that was only the bile stuck in my throat from Monday's round with the council and housing association. What's not gone, is my problem with the heating.

The plumbers came, oh they did come, two of them. "Ribbit ribbit ribbit" went the new doorbell. It was 8.30 and I was just putting my son to bed with a hot water bottle. "Oh this is lovely mummy, thank you."

I don't know how long they stayed. I fell asleep watching the Royal Variety Show, huddled in a ball on the sofa, my scarf wrapped around my ears. Male voices were calling me, I couldn't find them. They swirled in the darkness but where where were they coming from? Panic siezed my heart and slowly I realised they, the plumbers, were calling me, it wasn't a dream.

"There are too many problems with the boiler. The pipes are blocked, water can't get through. The engine packed out on you, the immersion has collapsed. We will come back tomorrow."

"Mummy, I'm cold. My body is cold," said my son this morning.
Fortunately, ffffortunately, Juggling Mum had lent us a convector heater last night. I'd put it in the bedroom. "Switch it on," I instructed my hot water bottle boy. Chill winds replaced his presence in the bed.

So yeah, now I must wait. I must put all the dirty laundry in a black bag and put it in the bedroom so the plumber can work. Put my son's Ikea fabric "wardrobe" in there too. Clear the corridor basically.

I have a doctor's appointment at 1. I'm missing Bazza's Boot Camp. I'd be no good today anyway after using all my defence against Monday's thrashing by the System.

The Master would let me meditate. That would be nice; in that environment with my uniform on.

Ha ha ha! Stigmum's singing!

Risin' up back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance now I'm back on my feet
Just a mum with the will to survive
So many times it happens too fast
I trade my passion for glory
Don't lose my grip on the dreams of the past
I must fight just to keep them alive

It's the eye of the tiger
It's the thrill of the fight
Rising up to the challenge of our rivals
And the last known survivor
Stalks her prey in the night
And she's watching us all
With the eye
Of the tiger!

(I tell Stigmum that the fight is not thrilling, I'm not back on my feet and she says "I know but Survivor's song is a good one.")