I Haven't The Energy

My husband has, I'm sad to say, let his environmental awareness become a sort of ecological obsession; a form of energy-saving Tourettes if you will. He no longer has any control over his impulses to switch off lights and ensure that the heating is turned to 'Arctic'. I was unaware of the extent of his addiction until we moved house last week, when Put-Another-Jumper-On Fox (as I affectionately call him) developed the DTs because he hadn't installed a low-energy lightbulb in the previous two hours.

I wouldn't mind - really, I wouldn't. We're all supposed to do our bit - but it's not as though low energy lightbulbs actually produce any light to speak of, and in unfamiliar surroundings it seems a cruel joke to be playing on your scatty, myopic wife. I'm either going to have to switch all the lightbulbs back again whilst he's out or stop drinking (yes, really!). It's the only way to stop me from walking into things.

If anyone was thinking of buying me a housewarming present, a miners' hat, a scarf or a set of shinpads would be most welcome.

Fiona 3rd April 2008 

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