Monday or how you know it's going to be one of Those Days

I woke this morning a little before 6 am, to the sound of the Cat heaving.

She was surprised a little while later when she lept onto my bed, started coughing and I chucked her off.

A little while later Boy poked his head round the door and said he wasn't feeling very well.

I decided it was an omen and arranged with work to stay home today and go in to work tomorrow instead. I'm glad I did. I didn't find where she'd been sick until after I tramped through it and draped my fluffly pink dressing gown in the lovely goo. The un-naturally pale Boy went back to bed.

You have to understand I'm fully aware I'm pre-mentrual. But I have Thornton's chocolate caramel shortbread in the house and a lethal dose of paracetemol and ibuprofen on standby. Not to mention a huge stack of Buffy dvds and my duvet on high alert.

Boy was napping on the couch, I was watching crap on the idot box when I noticed a guy creeping round the bushes outside my front window. I got up, opened the front door and asked him what he was doing creeping round my bushes. He said he was checking my water meter and walked off.

I was surprisingly not happy. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I have anything against men creeping round my bushes. But I'd have liked to at least had a proper introduction. Not to mention dinner and some polite conversation. I'm becoming old-fashioned in my advancing years.

So I rang Anglian Water. When I finally got through their telephone tree (press 1 for a headache, press 2 to talk to an idiot), I stated my name, address and problem. The customer service person put me on hold to talk to Operations, she then came back to me and said she could give me a number to ring if I would like to go after the strange bloke and get his ID, I could then check whether he was kosher. Or I could ring the police.

I take option 2, get the non-emergency number and talk to a very nice lady called Katie. She took my details, his details and asked if I would mind a visit from the Plod if it became necessary. I was talking to her on a cordless and I could see him working his way up the road. Bending over other people's front walls. There wasn't even an Anglian Water van in sight. At least she understood why I wasn't particularly happy.

I know I'm being slightly hysterical but I live in Studentville. Often the first port of call for the light-fingered. They quite like to relieve those scabby students of their lap-tops, mobile phones and i-pods.

This bloke was in a blue jumper, blue trousers with a hi-vis vest. Nothing of which read Anglian Water. In case you're taking details, I reckon he was slight, 5'8 and had light brown hair. Now, most of the utility guys I've ever met were very meticulous about showing ID. They usually walk around with lots of gear, name emblazoned on everything, and a clipboard. This guy just seemed to have a screw-driver. I wasn't about to run after him and demand to see his ID.

I might be fairly spikey, but I do know in a fair fight I'd still come off worse. I'm not very big and it's been years since I've done my martial arts training. The worst I'd probably manage is to bite his ankles. So no, I'm not going to be challenging anyone thanks very much. They might need cleaning, but damnit, they are my teeth.

So I'm afraid I have probably just wasted police time.

I can't wait to see what happens for the rest of today.

Mind you, I can afford to be grumpy and pre-mentrual. But we are still waiting with Savannah. She's a lovely Southern belle, who has become a new friend. Please pop in and give her a hug.

PS. Just had a visit from a very professional WPC with no sense of humour. Now I feel 2 inches high and teary.

PPS. I'm going to implement emergency procedures and go smoke in the garden. Anyway, I've missed the opportunity to die young.

Update: Someone from Norfolk Constabulary rang to do a customer service questionnaire. I gave positive feedback, just because the WPC didn't have a sense of humour and made me feel 2 inches high, it wasn't an opportunity to be petty. It turns out they rang Anglian Water, who did not have anyone working on my road that day.

I feel vindicated for being a nosey old bat.