Last fishy heads to fishy heaven

I think my last goldfish is on his way out. He was removed from the tank this morning and placed in the ceremonial bowl where he will hover betwixt this world and the next for a couple of days, no doubt in agony which I can do nothing to relieve, like his predecessors.

The tank now only contains two tiny zebra danios and a pleco. What to do?

Last night, The Other Half and I went to our monthly Greenpeace, only to discover we WERE the meeting! The organiser turned up about 40 minutes late to pass on the information about what's coming up. It was quite 'intimate'.

We have concluded that the grass roots of the organisation are fairly ill-disciplined. Deadlines and times seem to mean nothing to them. I tell you, when we start our own group in East London things will be different!

The flat is such a f*ing tip, it is heartbreaking. No amount of remembering it isn't as bad as, say, Dafur or parts of Myamar is helping.

We are now waiting for the drying company to come and rip the floor up for a few weeks to dry the concrete and have all our possessions in a pile on the only parts of the floor that escaped the deluge.

And looking forward to a break from dealing with all the contractors and sub-contractors who seem to enjoy aggravating our situation.