Covid Chronicles: Day Twelve – The Art of Doing Nothing

A Slow Start to the Nothingness

Ah, Covid Holidays Day Twelve, the grand finale of our official hiatus from the drudgeries of work. Now, I wish I could regale you with tales of daring adventures and thrilling escapades, but alas, dear reader, today’s report is as empty as my coffee cup on a Monday morning.

We decided to kick off the day with the exquisite art of nothingness. The alarm clock’s snooze button became our best friend, and the bed cradled us in its warm embrace, reluctant to let us go. Finally, with the allure of breakfast calling, we reluctantly rose from our cozy fortress of pillows and blankets.

Charming Chores and the Hive Dilemma

With the morning’s inertia in full swing, we decided to embark on a noble quest – tackling the outstanding chores that had been lingering like the ghost of New Year’s resolutions past. Armed with determination (and a slightly dusty mop), we danced our way through domestic duties, turning the mundane into a whimsical ballet of household wizardry.

However, dear reader, every hero’s journey has its villain, and ours goes by the name of Hive. No, not a secret society plotting world domination, but rather a supposedly intelligent thermostat that seems to have developed a rebellious streak. It insists on forsaking its ‘schedule’ for the wild, unpredictable path of ‘manual,’ leaving our boiler in a perpetual state of enthusiasm.

The radiators, controlled by Hive TRV’s, play a game of hot and cold, and not in the fun way. While they behave, the two mischievous bypass radiators in the bathrooms have declared open rebellion, demanding hot water with the gusto of a toddler demanding candy. A combi boiler, they say, demands this sacrifice, but it’s our hard-earned money being sacrificed to the gas gods.

Navigating the Labyrinth of Support

In the grand saga of our heating woes, a quest to Hive’s customer support ensued. We embarked on a journey through the labyrinthine layers of support, from the basic foot soldiers to the esteemed third line support, where, we’re told, the real heroes reside. You see, I, too, am a third line support warrior in my professional life, so I know the gravity of reaching such heights.

It’s a battlefield out there, filled with automated responses and hold music that could lull a caffeinated squirrel into a peaceful slumber. Yet, undeterred, we persisted, armed with screenshots and a resilience that only a person battling a mischievous thermostat can possess.

Cataract Chronicles: The Waiting Game

In the midst of our everyday saga, life demanded more attention. A gentle nudge from responsibility led me to the doorstep of hospitals and opticians, metaphorically speaking. You see, my dear mum has been patiently waiting for her cataract appointment since the sun-kissed days of July.

In the grand theater of bureaucracy, I played the role of the concerned offspring, making calls, sending emails, and employing all the diplomatic skills I never knew I had. The hospital and opticians, it seemed, were engaged in a high-stakes game of hide and seek, and I was determined to emerge victorious.

Hoping for Tomorrow’s Plot Twist

As we wrap up this riveting tale of nothingness, one can’t help but hope for a plot twist in the chapters to come. Maybe, just maybe, tomorrow will bring a tale worth telling, a saga of excitement and unpredictability that will make Day Twelve a distant memory.

In the meantime, while we navigate the treacherous waters of Hive rebellion and bureaucratic cataract delays, feel free to indulge in the nostalgia of our past holiday escapades here. Ah, the weekend looms ahead, a bittersweet symphony of relaxation and the impending return to the grind.