Getting your knickers in a twist is one of my favourite expressions. It’s so British, so Victoria-Wood, so down-to-earth and domestic. It’s a sort of equaliser: if we can talk about Boris Johnson getting his underwear in an uproar (as Basil Brush used to put it) we can bring him down a peg or two. And let’s face it, when don’t we talk about Boris Johnson getting his knickers in a twist? It happens on a daily basis.
Computers, too, are well-known for getting their long-johns in a log-jam. But what’s puzzling about my desk-top is that it has its minutes in a twist. The clock has been persistently five minutes slow; this has now crept up to six minutes and counting. Nothing can be done about this, since although you can change the time zone you cannot change the actual time; the computer, it seems, is deemed to be infallible in this area. It ain’t. What’s even more amusing is that somewhere inside its workings it knows very well what the time is. If I write a blog post and hit ‘publish’ the system will inform me simultaneously that the post is ‘live’ and that it will be ‘published in six minutes.’ Very weird.
Last night I finished watching Episode 1 of Life, the Doctor Foster spin-off I mentioned yesterday (are you paying attention?) Alison Steadman is completely compelling in this as a woman whose husband continually belittles and mocks her and is slowly coming to realise the fact. But this is only one of several stories involving the occupants of a block of smartish flats; there’s a young woman having a baby with two fathers, a teacher who’s in denial about his wife’s death, a divorced woman (the only character from Doctor Foster) who takes in her niece while the mother is in hospital – and in none of these cases can I begin to guess what the outcome will be. Compelling stuff. Unfortunately all episodes are ‘streaming now’ so I’ll have to ration myself.
Is it Thursday already? How the hell did that happen?