Start the day with: colleague calling in sick. This is never ideal but still less so on a Friday (because they're always busy).
Follow it up, a scant five minutes later, with the letting agency for Old House ringing up to advise me that the shower is leaking again. Interesting, think I, we only just got a leak sorted with that, the tenants have only been in two weeks; what, then, is the issue? Eventually manage to get hold of builder who fixed it last time... well, in fact, beloved gets hold of him and takes him round to house (after beloved had driven back from Nottingham) as builder is sans car at the moment. It becomes more or less immediately apparent that this is not the same problem, but a related problem, which is in fact going to necessitate replacing shower, tiles, etc., and repainting bits of ceiling.
Arse. Why can't this whole slum-landlord thing be a little simpler?
By the time I get to work, the phone messages are piling up, the fax pile is huge, and every third person is ringing up and whinging about where their item is. Just another day in Paradise.
It occurs to me as I sit at my desk, almost, almost ready to go home if no further disasters develop (now there's the sound of me tempting fate if ever I heard it), that my sole calorific intake for the day has been the cup of coffee I had during an earlier meeting. This is perhaps less than ideal.
I think it's time I left.
On the bright side - the new CD-writer does work (and is a hell of a lot more reliable than the other one in terms of lack of underruns, it would seem). I'm not a big fan of the software that came with it, and my existing CD-writing software doesn't seem to like the concept of a drive on USB, but it works. Hurrah.