Foreboding

You know that day which we all dread?  The awful morning when an often deferred, unpleasant operation has to be faced. The date on which we know there will be pain, bloodshed and fear. The occasion for a trauma, after which the rest of ones life will be changed, forever. Tomorrow, for me, is that day.

I do not refer to my trip to the dentist. At 4:30pm that will offer pleasant relief and momentary relaxation.

No, tomorrow is the day when we have to erect the new shed.  It was purchased a month or so ago and has propped-up the rear of the garage ever since. I can put it off no longer.  After at least two hours of skilled prevarication, I will have to open the package in the morning and assess whether all the parts are present. Usually at this stage I cannot find all of them but press on regardless.  I also have to discover which tools are needed and pray that an absence of an essential gubbins fixer requires a very slow drive to B&Q.

Eventually, after a protracted lunch, the assembly process will have to begin. I cannot face writing of the horrors that will ensue. Just wish me luck.  I may be some time.