Frozen Pipes and Bullet Journals
The universe sometimes exhibits a wonderful sense of humor. The night before last the temperature dropped to well below zero (celcius, for my American friends). Well below freezing point. So of course the central heating in our house chose to stop working.
By mid-morning a heating engineer had paid us a visit, and found the cause. The drain pipe from the boiler had frozen at the point it exits the house. This in turn caused condensation forming within the boiler to back up into the boiler instead of making it's way out of the house - which resulted in it slowly filling with water and putting it's own flame out.
The solution? Wait.
Leave the heating on continuous, and keep trying to re-light the boiler until it was dry enough to start working again - which it eventually did at about 5pm.
In other news, Amazon delivered two sets of Bullet Journals in recent days. They sent them twice because they sent the wrong books once, and then sent the wrong books again. The first time I thought it was a typical warehouse mistake, raised a return, and re-ordered. The second time I filled out the return form, and left a comment about perhaps checking their stock codes.
At least the man in the post office made the process of returning things to Amazon straightforward.
After leaving the post office I wandered into town, and went bullet journal shopping - picking up two newly re-branded books from "T J Jones" - who I will call "W H Smiths" until the end of time - one for me, and one for my other half.
While wandering home, I pondered on the whole circular productivity nightmare - and the endless drive to do more in less time - to balance more, to manage more, to achieve more. More, more, more. I guess going back to a paper planner is a reaction of sorts to that.
I've never really thought of bullet journals as "planners" though - they're more mindfulness machines. The act of writing things down tends to anchor it somehow. Typing doesn't achieve the same thing at all. I've no idea why.
Anyway.
It's getting late, and I should probably go collapse into bed. I can't believe it's Wednesday already.