Thanks to a Coffee Person at work, I now have a large blistered scald on my left forearm. I was kind enough to offer to make him a cafetiere of noncey coffee, but I was a little overenthusiastic when I pushed down the plunger and decorated most of the kitchen, my shirt and my arm with boiling water and coffee grounds.
The problem with scalds is that you don’t realise that you’ve damaged yourself until you’ve already told your concerned audience that you’re fine. This has happened before – a malfunctioning kettle incident which led to a burn the size of an old 50p piece was dismissed by me as nothing in front of an old boyfriend’s mother. Following this injury, we all went out on a jaunt to London Town – in my case, gritting my teeth and stealing occasional glances at the flowering wound under my sleeve.
Oddly, this new one is right next to the scar from the last one.
Still, the burn topped off an otherwise very successful day. I volunteered to let an estate agent into our warehouse, which we might be subletting. I borrowed the HR director’s keys, paid close attention to the complicated unlocking procedure, and met the agent outside the office. He had a BMW 5-series with lots of leather and toys and gave me a lift for the 200 yards between the office and warehouse. Most kind.
I approached the door with a level head. The first lock opened fine. However, on trying to do the second, the key broke off in the lock. Then the alarm, which the HR Director had said wouldn’t be set, went off. Fortunately, I had a special fob which was supposed to deactivate the alarm – which it did, for about a minute.
I called and got the PIN. Apparently, the key does it all the time, but today was the first time that pliers became involved.
All in all, a jolly good day.