Hello, and welcome to the blog. I hope you enjoy it. It’s Easter Monday. That doesn’t mean ya boi (as I refer to myself as) gets a day off. No sir. Welcome to Monday. Let’s have a little moan.

Eagle-eyed readers of the blog (or ones with a good memory) will recall that I mentioned I watched Normal People recently and would be talking about it imminently on the blog. I decided against that today. Why? Well, first of all, it’s my blog. I can do as I please. Also, I tend to be quite negative on Mondays and discussing a show I loved wouldn’t go with that. Long story short, Friday is the day you want for all your Normal People fanboying needs. So today, let’s talk about pipes.

What kind of pipes? I mean your average run-of-the-mill pipes you (hopefully) have in your home. I don’t mean singing pipes, either. However, I sing in the shower, which is connected to pipes. That may sound like a tangent, but what I have to say does include the shower. Nothing too sexy, don’t worry, reader.

You see, my bedroom is in the highest room in the tallest tower of my beautiful family home. We even live on a hill, so I am closest to the stars than anyone else in this house. I didn’t have much choice in the matter. There were no other rooms upstairs.

I like it here. I am here as I write this. This is where I work. This is where I sleep. This is where I laugh. This is where I cry. This is not where I relieve myself. I am the male Rapunzel. I coined the name Finderella in my last job because of all the sweeping I had to do. Clever, right? Back to this bedroom of mine. Certain house mechanics can be heard because it is so high up and close to the attic. The one thing I can hear that drives me mad sometimes is the heating pipes. For the longest time, I had no idea what the noise was. I initially thought it was raining outside. It turns out that every time the heating is on, the water rushes through the pipes above my ceiling, and it sometimes sounds terrifying.

I still have to understand exactly when this happens. I should take note when it does. Furthermore, when I am working, it can happen too. It’s very distracting, as you can imagine. I know. Look, it’s another writer who has to deal with unusual distractions as he works, boohoo. This isn’t a sympathy plea. This thought literally and figuratively came over my head last night as I tried to sleep.

Now that that’s off my chest, I can return to writing. Hopefully, nobody has another shower today. I hope you had a nice bank holiday. Keep going at whatever it is you are having trouble with. You’ll get there.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for your time.