5 July 2013 (Friday) - Delays...

I find myself waking up with such a dry mouth during the night more and more just recently. I must be sleeping with my mouth open. Must stop that. Mind you it's amazing what happens when you are fast asleep. This morning I found a great big hole in the arse of my favourite pyjamas - what happened there?

I left for work a little earlier than I needed to this morning; I had shopping to do. I needed to replace the fluorescent tube starter for the fish tank. Regular readers of this drivel may recall the fun I had at the local branch of Pets at Home a few days ago trying to get such a replacement. I thought I'd see if B&Q had one - they didn't, which surprised me. So in desperation I tried the Canterbury branch of Pets at Home who had the very thing I needed and it was less than two quid. Let's just hope it works. Mind you I did have a little episode at the till in that shop. The twit in front of me in the queue was trying to buy half the shop's stock. He had more credit cards than sense, but couldn't remember the PIN to any of them. After trying about a dozen cards (three times each) he gave up, loudly cursed his bank, and went home having bought nothing. That wasted ten minutes of everyone's time.

As I was in the area I popped into the cheapo bargains shop. All I wanted was a packet of sweeties as a treat for my drive home later. Someone had asked for a Euromillions ticket (the cheapo bargains shop has taken to doing lottery tickets). The woman on the till couldn't operate the lottery machine, and promptly broke it. Paper was pouring out of the machine and was going all over the floor. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't running quite so late. All the customers then queued like lemons as all the staff milled about the lottery machine. The priority was clearly to mend the machine before the boss found it was broken rather than dealing with the paying punters.

So having lost twenty minutes my piss really boiled as I got stuck behind two different dustbin lorries on the last half-mile of my journey to work. The crew of the first one knew they were blocking a narrow road, and so waved me down a side street where I was promptly blocked by a second.

I made my lame excuses for my tardiness to the boss, and hadn't been at work that long when I got a message. "Daddies Little Angel TM" was in charge back at the ranch and had taken "Furry Face TM" for a walk to meet a friend of hers, and their dog Sarge. Sarge, being "on the other bus", is an advocate of "The Love That Dare Not Speak It's Name (oo-er!)" He took a fancy to Fudge, as only a dog which bowls from the pavilion end could. Apparently things got rather racy (as only dogs which are "good with colours" can) and Sarge got so over-excited that he was sick. All over Fudge. I gave instructions that all dogs should have a shower - Sarge's one should be cold.
Some days I am pleased to be at work...

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