Deviousness

Deviousness is a many-headed Hydra, or a leaky bag, for every misdeed you stop two new ones emerge. Now Nek arrives in good time in the morning and then sneaks out, so that when I arrived at 3.30 he was already gone. On the phone he claimed to be 'outside' and after some noisy clanking of the cogs decided he was inspecting the iron-framed French windows. I told him this would have been a golden opportunity for the boys and girls to paint the window frames. I hope his second job pays well.

The bathroom walls had been done, thank God, but those idiotic gypsum walls still need a couple of panels fixed and the airing holes cut out on one side. Do they form the flat surface we have come to expect of a wall? No they do not. Do they resemble a Bangkok pavement in the sheer intricacy of their angled layers? Indeed they do.

The view from the wardrobe:

The first-floor balcony lamp is an orphan, the line discontinued. Now I have to go to grim old faraway Boonthavorn again to buy a new pair as HomePro Ploenchit proved useless; so useless in fact that I had to complain to the manager and recommend she fire everyone in the lighting section. Recalcitrant jobsworths, the lot of them, like comedy French waiters only infinitely more stupid. Yet at the Ratchada branch they couldn't be more helpful. Perhaps I should have told the manager to fire herself.