Less than helpful

Tomorrow is pretty much dedicated to a wedding in London, which meant that today was never going to be easy. Lots of errands to run, more Christian Aid envelopes to collect (in the Parish on the Hill) and a sermon to produce for Sunday - but a dear friend had arranged to drive down from darkest Monmouthshire to take me out to lunch, so I was determined to make time to enjoy her at least. It was her first visit to the vicarage, and it was fun to show her round before we sank on the kitchen sofa with a large coffee apiece. Then I looked up, and noticed an unfamiliar line on the ceiling...Next came a slow drip...
We ran upstairs and confirmed that the leak was nowhere near the bathroom, so, thanking God for the benenfits of a clergy house, I phoned the diocese.
The rest of the day was taken up with a succession of builders, plumbers, men with and without circular saws (of course, the man summoned specially to bring one from Berkley arrived without it) and earnest conversations between worried workmen in the drive.
The site manager from the original building project was on hand, and could not have been sweeter or more helpful, but there was no getting round the fact that instead of ticking jobs off my list, I spent most of the day watching my nice new house have a meltdown all of its own.
The cause was identified mid afternoon as a leaky join in a heating pipe and was fixed shortly before 6.00 tonight.
The day had looked complicated anyway, but with this development it became utterly unmanageable...
I have left undone those things which I ought to have done, - but there's absolutely nothing I plan to do about that tonight. It's bedtime, and, however busy, tomorrow is another day.