Which brings me to today. Today we decided that the weather had turned cold enough that we should put the heating on. And guess what? The heating doesn't work. At all. The radiators don't warm up even a little, which tells me it's not that they need bleeding. Also we have hot water so the boiler still works. And the thermostat settings all seem to be correct. So maybe it's a problem with the circulating pump? Or a valve? I don't know nearly enough about central heating systems to have any idea. We're currently waiting for a call back from a central heating engineer and I really hope this will turn out to be something easily fixed.
I'm assuming the engineer will want to get to the airing cupboard, which is in my room. So I felt it was time to take down the posters that have been up for well over twenty years now. I have been wanting to take them down for a while but avoided it cos of the damage to the wallpaper. But this felt like a good impetus to finally get it done. So now I'm left with walls that look depressingly bare and have patches of peeled off wallpaper. Basically, like everything else in this house, my room is tired and run down and in desperate need of renovation.
I just... everything seems like such hard work and I hate that. I want my home to be somewhere I can relax and feel comfortable in, but this place just stresses me out and brings me down. Which is a shame cos I used to love it. When I was a child I hated the thought of moving. And, to be honest, there are some positives. The view for one. When I daydream about winning the jackpot on the lottery I'm torn between the dream of buying a large house somewhere else or throwing money at builders to tear this place down and build a better one here. Maybe I'll win £139 million tomorrow and can do both! I'll need somewhere to live while they're building my dream house after all.