It's only 2pm, but I've been awake for 10 hours. On my usual time scale, it should be time to leave work, not have lunch. The day started with an almighty bang at about 4.15am, when a sizeable part of our kitchen ceiling decided enough time had been spent trying to hang onto some rather damp ceiling boards and descended into the kitchen accompanied by a large amount of rubble. The cornice (which was apparently the catalyst: being too heavy for the surrounding wet-then-dry plaster) was found sat proudly on the front of the washing machine in a bed of two tea towels and a huge amount of dust. Everything else in the immediate vicinity (i.e. up to the bathroom and the bedroom) is covered in a neat film of plaster dust, including the 'clean' washing up, the 'clean' washing-awaiting-ironing and all my shoes, handbags, books and other assorted paraphernalia which sits on and under the kitchen sideboard. I am not impressed. A suitable answer phone message was left for the landlords (at 4.30am) and a builder eventually turned up. Thankfully he assures me the rest of the ceiling is safe, but the whole thing will need to be replaced. Which will take about a week and will require us to leave. And I can still taste plaster dust.