IT´S happened. Something the script writers of Emmerdale will be able to empathise with: I have finally and comprehensively lost the plot.
My ‘office’, aka the landing at the top of the stairs, is close to our bedroom, and I had just logged in to my computer when the alarm on my bedside clock suddenly started a nerve grating bleep bleep bleeeeeep.
An alarm kicking off at 2.30 in the afternoon is ever so slightly puzzling, but even more puzzling, was the fact that I have never set or used the alarm on this bedside timepiece.
I tend to have a reliable internal clock that alerts me in plenty of time if we have to be at Alicante airport at half past stupid in the morning – several hours too early most of the time, but hey it works.
But if I’m honest, I do not use this particular alarm mostly because the tiny lettering on the controls is so faint that not even with the aid of binoculars can I decipher the instructions, which includes how to turn the thing off.
I switched all the switches and knobbed all the knobs. I banged the top and turned it upside down, but nothing I did silenced that infernal bleeping sound that was reminiscent of finger nails being dragged across a blackboard.
Then ker-ching! All I had to do was unplug it from the wall and problem solved right?
Nope. The bleeping continued unabated. It must have a battery backup I thought, but having located the battery compartment and extracted the single AAA, the damn thing still continued its caterwauling.
Was this some sort of unholy revenge for daring to write about black magic the week before? It simply defied the laws of physics.
So I did the logical thing; I went downstairs and made a pot of tea in the hope that after half an hour it would have exhausted itself into silence.
But no such luck.
Then just as I was considering drowning the damn thing in the toilet, I put the contraption to my ear and only then did I realise that in fact the alarm was not from my clock at all, but the small travel one that my wife had been messing around with earlier, and was sitting on her bedside table opposite.
I’m much calmer now and the Princess says that the nice white van with the pretty coloured stripes down the side will be arriving shortly.
Sarcasm is so unattractive.