And now my song is done.
If you thought I would do everything that doesn't involve changing jobs or moving house, you were right. However I do not feel guilty as two independent observers have stated "it is just too hot to do anything at the moment" (thank you Val and Monique). It is awkward and frustrating to leaf through diaries searching for qualification rated tidbits from my life in the public service when the sweat is dripping off my nose and my fingers prune. For the record, today's range was 27°C to 34°C. The breeze, when it blew, felt like an exhaust fan.
Other people who have not done what they said they would do include Frank, the tenant next door who does the gardening. He has failed to remove the large pile of gardening refuse from where I used to park my car. People who have done something without mentioning it first include Ben, one of the tenants upstairs. He tipped out the fetid bilge from his fishing esky in the garden outside my windows, then rinsed the esky out and left it to air at the bottom of the stairs, outside my back door. Although he did it at night, perhaps to avoid the demotivating heat of the day, there were olfactory reasons why I wish he had chosen to join me and Frank in putting off the task until the heat breaks. On the other hand it was probably an olfactory reason, compounded by the heat, why he cleaned it out in the first place.