… the Bluetooth adapter. Which my son spent quite some time looking for this afternoon, disturbing my attempt to complete revising chapter 8 and get to my belated coffee break (I got up late). For behold, the Bluetooth adapter was very small, and in my son’s room there are many things… And lo, he found it, and we both rejoiced, and then I finished editing chapter 8 and took a long coffee break. And then I edited chapter 9, and tomorrow I will edit chapter 10 (or possibly delete it entirely) and write an intro, so that I can send off the book to meet the deadline of Thursday. It’s almost time to say, Rejoice with me!
So, I was idly looking through my email inbox to see what I could delete (in an effort to reduce mails to the mystic figure of 67 which is my preferred inbox fullness level (OCD? moi?)) when I came across an email from the Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency acknowledging my request for a new tax disc*. ‘Oh dear’, I thought, ‘I remember receiving the new disc, and putting it on the coffee table next to me, and nothing after that’. So I began to worry. Although I only pay £35 a year on account of having a nice green low emissions car, it’s still £35 thrown away if I’ve lost it. So I look on the coffee table. No tax disc. I lift up magazines and look under them. Same. I stop on my way out and look to see if The Grouch has already put it in the car. No.
Finally I start rifling through the magazine rack we use for storing recyclable paper before it goes to the bin. This is a large task as I have thrown away a lot of old catalogues this week (some dating back to last Christmas!). Eventually I find the surrounding paper that the tax disc was sent in (it has little perforations so you can take the disc out). At least I can prove I bought a disc. I persevere and, behold, a small circular piece of blue paper falls out of a bundle of papers. Hallelujah!
The best bit is that this is all on a Tuesday, which is the day before the recycling collectors come, and if I had not looked at this precise moment, it would have gone out with all the other paper when The Grouch put it out in the bin that evening. Maybe there is a God after all…
*note: drivers in UK have to pay a set amount of ‘road tax’ each year and this is displayed in a little paper disc on the windscreen of their car.