4 November 2015 (Wednesday) - New Wellies

After an hour of laying awake I got up and was watching "Chewing Gum" shortly after 6am. A rather overlooked series; it is actually quite good.
I then spent a little while having a look-see on Amazon (dot com). "Daddies Little Angel TM" has recently shown an interest in post-apocalyptic fiction and I was seeing what was going cheap in the genre. There are quite a lot of rather good books of that type by John Wyndham and Edmund Cooper. I wonder what she will make of Triffids and the Kraken?

It was raining as I set off to work. That reminded me I needed to get new wellies so I went to B&Q. I got there and asked where the wellies were. I was rudely directed to the garden section by some old battleaxe who clearly didn't like being at work at 7am. I'd already tried the garden section - the door to that area was locked. So I told that to the old battleaxe who sighed and marched over to the automatic doors which were indeed locked. Using brute force she wrenched them open and told me that if I got locked in I should shout and someone would come and let me out.
I found the wellington boots in a heap. Some had sizes on them; some did not. So I forced open the doors from the garden section to the main store and walked out.
On 7 January of this year I blogged about how rude the staff in B&Q are. I keep forgetting what a crap shop it is; every time I go there I always end up wasting my time and then going somewhere else.

The morning's news boiled my piss (as it so often does). The Health Secretary is offering junior doctors a stonking great pay rise. Or so it seems. He's actually offering a pay rise on the one hand whilst cutting overtime rates. Been there, had that shoved down my throat...
But it speaks volumes that no one cares what is he offering physiotherapists, pharmacists, optometrists, biomedical scientists, audiologists, transfusion practitioners, painters, gardeners, porters, cleaners, cooks, electricians, plumbers, secretaries, radiographers and all the other NHS workers who aren't doctors and nurses.

I got to work, did some, and came home via the garden centre in Chartham where I got my wellies. Once home I took "Furry Face TM" for his walk. He then had his tea, and with "er indoors TM" off flogging candles I had mine. Before 8pm which was really good.
Mind you being home alone means I'm bored. And next door has been clanging the same irritating scales on their f@*@ing piano for three hours now. It is Mrs next door who does it. She does it purely to irritate nutty Mr next door.
His drunken screeching will start soon...

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