So Thursday at five to four I got a message on my phone from Incontinence service to phone back. She doesn't sound happy. I wonder if it's because she was expecting to speak to Mr Effie. However, he's away in Greenland getting ready to run a marathon on the polar icecap. After mentally girding myself for a half hour to reply - 

"Have your pads arrived yet?" "Nope"

"Oh I was told by Hartmann they'd be with you today, and they told your husband that too"

"No, they guessed Thursday to get him off their backs, they actually said Friday first till his voice rose an octave and backpeddalled it to Thursday"

"Well I'll go and find out what's happening"

Rung back, yes the pads did arrive with them, but they didn't make it onto the vans coming to Scotland on time so definitely tomorrow.

OK. On their letter we're scheduled to get 9 packets ( 4.5 daytime pads a day ) but we need 12 ( 6 daytime pads a day )

[Wait. There's a lot of "days" in that sentence. I apologise.] [and what's with the 0.5 pads a day???]

You're down here for 12 packets.

Well, that's really great if they come. Then we'll be back bang on schedule with the nighttime delivery. ( and I can stop sweating )

The pads just arrived 10 minutes ago.

9 packets.

I despair.

It's now 6pm and the whimsical thought just occurred to me to rip all the pads out the packets, lie them on the floor... stick on a swimming costume and lie on them a la "American Beauty"

However I'll refrain for now. :D