Rain, lists and two types of ticking.

It's raining. Not just any old raining, it's the sort of rain that sends the rapture index soaring as a prelude to Armageddon, or where all the animals in town start to pair up and march in the direction of a very large boat. Roads are closing, rivers are lapping undersides of bridges and I am seriously regretting leaving my red hunter wellies in Devon.

I'm trapped.

Well, not really trapped - if I wanted to walk the mile into town with saturated feet and a broken umbrella I could, but that doesn't sound too appealing so I'm opting for trapped.

The television is tempting me but I will not give in. The clock is ticking maliciously. It knows I hate ticking. I hate ticking about as much as captain hook hated ticking and I've never been attacked by a ticking crocodile. I should probably just move the clock.

I may be getting cabin fever - genuine cabin fever because outside is basically ocean and the ticking could sub in for wave noises.

My solution to this rain / unemployment / ticking induced craziness is to write lists. Lots of lists. So far today I have written a list detailing what forms we need to fill out to apply for my green-card, a list listing what documents we need to photocopy to accompany the forms, a list of things I would like to buy at the supermarket if Jeremy ever manages to sail home and escort me out of here and a list of tasks to be completed today. This last list is a secondary list to the one on our fridge which lists all the things I need to do in order to have some semblance of a life here. I'm about one tenth of the way through. The highlight of my day is when I get to tick something off the list (this sort of ticking I can get behind) - it's like getting a gold star in life-building. Actually that's a lie - the highlight of my day is when Jeremy gets home and I stop hearing the ticking (clock not list) and all my life-building tasks lessen in their significance because he is the foundation of the building and he makes me laugh and gives me hugs.

I have another 4 hours until that happens.

Next task: reorganising the spice cupboard and hanging up the washing. But first, clock dismantlement.