19 July 2013 (Friday) - Complaining

Not working today meant that I slept like a log, finally emerging from my pit shortly before 8am. I checked the world (via the Internet) to see what was going on. I had a minor sulk. Today is Canterbury Beer Festival. In years gone by I would have led a dozen reprobates on a beer swilling mission half way across the county. But in these austere times I really can't afford to spend close on one hundred pounds just to make myself feel ill (and to put on more weight). I had the offer to go to the beer festival with my Ham Street Lover, and I seriously considered going. But I have to work tomorrow, and sense and sensibility prevailed.

Instead I went to see the doctor. I've had a rash on my bum for a couple of months. It's not getting any better; in fact it's got to the stage where I've been scratching it so much that it bleeds, and the blood makes my pants stick to my bum. (Welcome to my world!) I've been given antibiotics - we'll see how they go.
Mind you I'm not sure the quack gave my chuff the amount of attention he might have done - he spent as much time fiddling with his mobile as scrutinising my posterior.
I had a moan to the practice manager as I came out. I got the distinct impression that the quack was utterly disinterested in my malady. Whilst I can understand his disinterest at my bum, had I presented a more serious problem I don't think I would want a diagnosis from someone whose attention was on texting his mates.

I came home to see the recycling binmen had been. They had emptied every bin in the street. Except mine. I had a whinge to the council, and after a little sarcasm on their part they agreed to send the binmen back again.
We then took the dogs out. It was a hot morning, but the dogs like a run. We went through Newtown to Frogs Island and back; if only because that route gives the dogs somewhere in the river that they can have a paddle.

Skinhead and her Epic Chest (patent pending) came to visit "Daddies Little Angel TM". The epic chest was too much for me, so I went up town. Ostensibly to get a container for the job lot of dog food I'd got the other day. But whilst I was at it I thought I'd have a milk shake. It was a hot day. The spotty assistant in McDonalds ignored me and turned his attention to the epically breasted schoolgirls, so I took my money round to Chill Time and got a butterscotch shake. Very nice. I could have squealed on spotty to his manger, but I felt I'd done enough complaining today already
As I came home I saw another triumph of our bin men (!) Too lazy to but the recycling bins back from where they had come, the bin men had littered all the pavements with the bins. Young mothers were pushing prams and push chairs up the roads to get by.

When er indoors TM" came home we took "Furry Face TM" out for a walk. As always geocaching suggests walks to places we've not been. We went up to Hastingleigh and braved a jungle to find a cache. Bodsham Dragons was hidden by someone who has never actually logged finding a cache, and hasn't logged on to the caching website for over a year. Having listed the terrain as 1.5/5 (really easy, you doddery old great grannie could do it) it was probably closer to a rating of 3.5/5 as it was a kilometre's hike up and down some of the steepest hills and then through several dozen yards of chest high brambles.
After that mission, finding a sandwich box in the general vicinity of a church was a piece of cake.

Home for fish, chips, and a relatively early night... I have to leave for work by 7.45am tomorrow. I just know I will be awake at least four hours earlier than I need to be.

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