The thing about those big silicon cartridges is that once opened, the stuff inside starts to set. So if you do one job with it, then come back to it for another job weeks later, it's a solid lump.
Therefore I have spent the evening re-doing all the silicon on all the sinks and the bath. It was all about due anyway. Putting the new stuff on is easy - it's taking the old stuff off that leaves you knackered.
So I have settled down now with a bottle of Henry Westons Oak Aged Cider. Yes, I found some, in Tesco. I have to type fast because it's 8.5%, very easy to drink and so I might find myself with dyslexic fingers at any moment.
I see that while I was occupied with sweating and swearing at silicon that had decayed enough to allow the start of fungal growth, but not enough to let go of the places it had stuck to without leaving a hell of a mess, the similarly-rotten EU has been busy too. Another step on the way to the Fourth Reich. Somewhere I should still have those SS badges a Hell's Angel uncle once gave me. Best look them out, they might be needed soon. Hey, I never claimed my family were angels. We weren't, he was an uncle by marriage. Nice guy, if you were related.
And Manwiddicombe beat me to the fisking of today's antismoker garbage.
Well, that's what happens when you spend so many hours in Silicon Hell. I can't do much more tonight until the residue on my fingers dries enough to stop my hands sticking to the keyboard, but I'll be back.
Possibly not sober, because I've stocked up today, but I'll be back.