SULKING FROM HOME

I'm sulking-from-home today. Well, I figured it was best; no-one wants me sulking in the office. I'm not well enough to go in and stress everybody out, and I'm not ill enough to lie in bed and stress myself out, so I've found this... happy... medium.

And perhaps it's the best for multiple reasons. My neighbour texted me this afternoon:

Hi Matt have you had a leak as water has come thru my ceiling?

Yeah you know that feeling. Blood rushes from your cheeks, you leap up from your laptop, vaguely remembering that downstairs can hear every footstep and you instantly check the kitchen and bathroom. No sign of a leak, no sign of a flood. Relief.

No, wait, not relief! Not knowing is much worse! I turned off the water, felt around the toilet, scratched my head for a while (contemplated how utterly unhygienic that is and went to wash my hands, forgetting that I'd just turned the water off) and texted her back apologetically.

Oh my gosh! No, not that I can detect! I'm at home ill today and I had a bath earlier but I honestly can't see any leak up here - kitchen or bathroom. I am so sorry. How bad is it? Is there anything I can do?

My brain was furious with me. Well what do you think you should do? Phone a librarian? Remain calm, brain. Cool, calm, collected.

So I rang my Dad, then contacted a few plumbers. Then I texted her back to let her know I was doing everything I could. It's more of a stain than a cascading torrent apparently, which is good, but it isn't any less worrisome. I have nightmares about this kind of thing.

So, the water's off (I don't have the courage to switch it on again), I'm still a bit poorly, I've upset the neighbour and I haven't seen anyone at all since Friday.

The thing that really bothers me though is that I know I can do much better than this - much better than 'sulking-from-home'. I feel like I ought to be able to rise above it, change my atmosphere and overcome these tricky circumstances. With my voice quiet and cracked, and my stomach churning with nerves and fruit juice, I ought to be able to sit at the piano and prove that worship makes a difference, even when I feel sick and I've almost flooded my neighbour's hallway. It doesn't seem very proactive, but that's okay - neither did marching round Jericho like a tribe of loony buskers. Mind you, crumbling walls is almost certainly the last thing I need at the moment.