13 October 2011 (Thursday) - More Stuff
Yesterday evening I wasted some time on the Amazon website. There’s several books I’d like for my Kindle, and so I spent a while updating my wish list. The plan was that those with more money than sense clicked on this link, paid for the books I want, and they would appear on my Kindle. I’d like that. It seemed a good plan.
However the trouble is that the whole concept of the Amazon wish list falls at the first hurdle. It’s all very well me telling the world what I’d like as a pressie: but the world can’t actually buy it for me. Amazon has had me create a list on which I tell everyone what I want, but from which only I can buy anything. What’s that all about?
My time is too precious to be wasted on nonsense like this (!)
And so to work. With my daily journey now being four times the distance it was a couple of months ago, I’m getting through petrol at quite a rate. But not four times the rate. Whereas I used to refuel monthly, now its fortnightly. How does that work?
In the past I’ve whinged about those who know the price of petrol in every filling station for miles around. Whilst I reserve the right to maintain that prejudice, I saved over two quid by getting my petrol in Canterbury rather than in Ashford.
Work was fun – I spent the entire day giggling. One of my colleagues, a very quietly spoken, demure, rather shy young lady told us that she was in her father’s bad books. She admitted to having taught her father’s parrot a new phrase. And whenever her father has visitors, the parrot now loudly (and constantly) shouts “HELP!!!! – They’ve turned me into a parrot!!”
Mind you I did get a bit cross whilst queuing at the League of Fiends (sic) shop. Surely when you have been queuing up, waiting for over ten minutes to be served, you wouldn’t wait until you get to the till before digging through your handbag, shopping bag and various pockets in a futile attempt to try to find your purse.
Perusing various websites of advice regarding job applications today, it would seem that the covering letter which accompanies a C.V. is probably as important as the C.V. itself. So I spent a little while working on a covering letter this morning. I don't know if that letter's actually going to do any good, but I suppose spending a bit of time doing such a letter can't hurt any future applications. I’ve put the thing here if any of my loyal readers might like to give it the once-over and offer any hints, tips or advice on the matter.
Home – to collect Fudge and to take him for a walk. I arrived at the Fudgery to find my first grand-dog in some disgrace. He was in trouble – he’d eaten his bed. I was impressed, but thought it best not to express the sentiment.
Me and Fudge had a pleasant half an hour wandering the local paths: at the end I was worn out and Fudge was still going strong. I really need to find him an extending lead.
Meanwhile I’ve got another follower on Twitter. “LaCuillereDiet” would seem to be French. There are those for whom no more information would be needed, and it has to be said that I tend to lean heavily toward that philosophy myself. However I shall wait until he, she or it starts to sell me his, her or its diet products before I spit my dummy out. So far they’ve done nothing than follow my Twitter feed. And there’s no denying that it can be dull at times.