I managed to wake up this morning later than planned - no surprise - but not too late. I was expecting a plasterer at 8.30, and I awoke at 8.25. I had been dozing since about 7.30, and had somehow got myself confused enough to believe that it was still 8. I managed to move, but I couldn't quite get out of bed. Then I thought I heard the doorbell go. So, I whacked jeans on over my pyjamas and went to investigate. It had been. But I had not, as far as they could tell, left them waiting. Good. I don't want them to think I'm a lazy-ass guy who can't haul his ass out of bed.

Then I asked them if they could wake me up tomorrow morning when they arrive. I explained that I'm a lazy-ass who can't get out of bed. Well, I actually explained that I have a late-night return tonight and that a kick on the door in the morning, if I'm not up to meet them, would do me a favour. They understood that it wasn't actual laziness.

Well, I'm paying for them to do the work, they may as well help me with other stuff.

I've left them biscuits, a kettle, a bucket to flush the loo with, and a room to plaster that will involve a lot of running up the stairs with buckets of plaster, since there's no room to set up anything bigger in the bathroom. Sorry.

Still, by the weekend, I'll have a plastered bathroom and my downstairs hall ceiling will be well beauty.