13 May 2016 (Friday) - Tom Hanks
I sometimes wonder if having thicker curtains might help me sleep longer; I was awake with the dawn, and lay awake for some time looking at my sleeping dog. I say "sleeping" he was crashed out and snoring but his eyes were open. Do dogs sleep with their eyes open? My one seems to.
I sparked up my laptop and had a look-see on-line. Amongst the morning's haul of emails was one from my professional body asking me to cast my vote in the election for the body's governing council. I had to choose two out of four people of whom I had previously never heard. Three of them looked rather scary and the fourth looked like he/she/it was straining on a rather recalcitrant poo. Realising that if I didn't vote I had no grounds for complaint when the wrong candidates got elected I had a look at their election statements. Other than one of the candidates having nominated another (which I saw as somethong of an own goal) there was little to choose between any of them. So I didn't bother. I really couldn't be arsed.
There was also an email from Ryan (who apparently knows me through LinkedIn) asking if I want a job doing what I do but for more money in London. This made me think... Do I want a job doing what I do but for more money? I tried for one of those yesterday and am still sulking now. If I don't take Ryan up on his offer I can be sure of no future disappointments. But if I don't take him up on his offer I can be sure of not getting a job doing what I do but for more money.
It is odd really. Yesterday morning I was quite content with my job. I then had an interview for promotion, was unsuccessful and now am incredibly hacked off. In retrospect I've been a manager before; I didn't really like it then and (despite my current sulk) I quite like what I am doing now. Perhaps if I'd been offerd the job and turned it down myself (which I may well have done) I would now be in a rather better frame of mind.
I then took "Furry Face TM" for a walk round the park. We were almost home and I was pleasently surprised that the walk had passed off without event when a small child appeared from nowhere and charged across the road at us. This brat jumped at my dog; landing inches from him. Said brat then screamed at my dog and started play-attacking my dog with an invisible sword. I think "Furry Face TM" was quite within his rights to bark at this brat. After a while the brat's fat mother waddled across the road (with half a dozen other ill-behaved brats in tow all seemingly in a civil war). Before she could say anything I told her that most dogs would have bitten her brat for the way he was behaving. I also hinted that decent parents *don't* allow their children to run across streets, and walked off leaving her shrieking at her hoarde of brats.
I set off to work earlier than I might have done: EI wanted me to deliver candle stuff to her mate in Canterbury. As I drove my heart sank. "Desert Island Discs" was on the radio. Usually this show is a chance for various celebrities to try to make themselves appear far posher than they really are by pretending to like obscure classical music to which no one actually listens. Ever.
But this show was different. Tom Hanks was in the chair; he was rather interesting and (with the forgivable exception of "Thus Spake Zarathustra") all of his music selections were the sort of thing to which real people actually listen.
I got the candles delivered, then (as I was in the area) went for McBreakfast. Sausage & Egg McMuffin, hash brown, caramel frappucino. Not too shabby even if I did get a brain freeze from the caramel frappucino.
Pausing only briefly to watch some idiot woman reverse her car into another car I the made my way to work. And everything of not today was over and done with by 11am...