23 March 2018 (Friday) - Late Shift
I slept well, and came down to see my dog on the sofa. He looked rather knackered, and his tummy was rock-hard. I *think* that is a sign that his back is playing up. He sat with me as I devoured my morning toast; he seemed OK; perhaps he slept awkwardly?
As I scoffed brekkie I saw the photos I’d posted to Facebook yesterday (from our fishing trip) had attracted a lot of “likes”, and what I’d thought was a bream was actually a hybrid. On looking at the photos again I can see that it was. It’s all to do with the shape of the head.
I also had several smiles at the people washing their dirty linen on Facebook. There are several acquaintances I keep on my Facebook list purely to watch their tirades against specific individuals, ex-partners and the world in general.
I got rather frustrated reading some of the Ashford-based Facebook groups in which local people blame the local council for all the town’s failings. How can the local council offer reduced rents on buildings they don’t own? How can the council have any control over that for which they have no authority? It frightens me that the half-wits so openly demonstrating their ignorance are allowed (and encouraged) to vote.
Amazon were again emailing me to suggest I buy either things I’d already bought from them, or assorted women’s fiction (?), and the NHS Jobs website were again emailing me with suggestions of jobs which would be utterly impractical for me to do.
I took the dogs round the park for a walk. Treacle is becoming quite the bully; whilst she runs in terror from any dog her size or bigger, she thinks nothing of terrorising and chasing ducks and squirrels and anything smaller than she is. I told her off about it several times.
A week or so ago the council had some large trees cut down. The trunks are still laying where they fell; I wonder if they will stay there?
As we walked, Fudge straggled. He was the dog that wanted to go out; he *always* wants to go out, but he does straggle.
Once home Treacle jumped into the bath and looked at me expectantly. She's come to expect a wash after a walk, and both dogs had the mud hosed from their bellies. There was a lot of mud to hose off of them today. I was surprised at how muddy Treacle was; I thought she'd smeared all the mud off of herself and on to me as she'd leapt into my arms in absolute panic several times on our walk earlier.
Once bathed, the dogs settled and I watched an episode of "Star Trek: Discovery" then set off to work.
I went via the petrol station on the ring road. It was amazingly busy, and as I was paying for my petrol the people behind the counter were chattering about how it was time to put the price down. And they did so. It was a shame they couldn't have put the price down ten minutes earlier. Still, I mustn't complain; even at the price I paid, their petrol was still seven pence cheaper than the petrol station closest to work.
As I drove west I turned on the radio. Misandrist harridans were spewing their venom on "Women's Hour"...
Whenever I listen to Radio Four's "Women's Hour" I usually feel it to be vaguely threatening. I really can't explain exactly why, but whenever I listen to that show I get the distinct impression that I am personally responsible for absolutely everything that is wrong with the world, and that the world would be a far better place if I curled up and dropped dead. I'm sure that the producers of the show don't intend it to be that way, but that is certainly the vibe I get. So I turned the radio off, and sang along to my rather unique choice of music.
I took my usual route to work, but stopped twice in Biddenden. There were two geocaches there which I had been planning to pick up on one of my late starts, but bearing in mind I've not got many of those before I transfer back to Maidstone, I thought that it was now or never. I soon found my geo-targets and carried on to work.
With a few minutes spare I had lunch in the hospital canteen. The food there is rather good. Quiche and beans... probably not as healthy as it might be, but in my mind it is better for me than fish and chips, and I have a theory that a lot of weight loss is psychological.
I went in to work and did my thing. Having done a lot of night shifts recently it seemed off having other people around. I quite liked it. Not only was there help to do the work, night working can get rather lonely…