7 November 2019 (Thursday) - Another Late Shift

I slept reasonably well, but was woken by the rain in the night. I got up, and saw Fudge was still sulking at me. He had the hump with me last night; I have no idea what I’ve done to offend, but that dog does sulk rather impressively.

As I scoffed toast I peered into the Internet. For once the thing wasn’t awash with adverts from people trying to sell that which they would otherwise take to the tip. Instead it was crawling with political posts… I say “political”. The trouble with British politics (and a lot of politics worldwide I suspect) is that for years power has been shared between well-established political parties, and many people have identified themselves as supporters of that party. Purely because they have always voted for “X”, with no real understanding of why they have done so. In much the same inexplicable way that one randomly chooses to give life-long devotion to a football team.
Many of the posts I read his morning were along the lines of “don’t vote for X because that would be a stupid thing to do” with absolutely no justification of why. Just because someone thinks a certain political party is brilliant doesn’t actually make it so (I wish more people would realise that). And quite a few posts were pointing out the personal failings of politicians of one colour, whilst totally ignoring that politicians of all colours have exactly the same failings.

I checked my emails. LinkedIn had thanked me for being an active member. I chuckled at that. My “activity” with LinkedIn mostly consists of deleting their emails unopened. If I’m an “active” member, I wonder how little everyone else does with that site.

I took the dogs out for a walk. As we walked Pogo found a tennis ball and was happily playing a game with it. He would let it roll, then chase it, and then set it off again. He was playing this quite happily for five minutes until Treacle pounced and stole the ball. She then carried it for the rest of the walk despite Pogo’s wanting it back.
As we walked we met other dogs. All three dogs played with some and barked at others.
We had to take a little diversion at the Chinese garden as the overnight rain had caused floods. That area regularly floods. It was a shame that dogs don’t see a flood as an obstacle, and all quite happily marched chest-deep into the water.

We came home. I set the washing machine going, then went out to feed the pond fish. That’s usually good for a barking session from the dogs. For some inexplicable reason the pond is clear all the way to the bottom. I then wrote up some more CPD,

With the dogs settled I set off in the vague direction of work. I drove up the motorway, as I went I was tail-ended by a succession of foreign lorries, none of whom seemed to have much interest in the speed limit.
I turned off at the Leeds castle junction thinking I might have a geo-adventure. The geocache I couldn't find a couple of months ago was still missing, but I did find another that wasn't a million miles away from it. And with geocache located and happy dance danced I went on to Sainsburys. I needed petrol. That stuff has got cheaper recently.
I then went in to the main Sainsbury's store. The nice poppy ladies from the British Legion were selling poppies and all sorts of other poppy-related stuff. I've wanted a metal poppy badge for some time, so I asked if they had any. The first nice poppy lady barked at me that they had. She announced that the things were two pounds each. She then (rather rudely) snapped at me that they didn't give change and said that if I was unwilling to give her a twenty quid note I should go get some change myself and come back when I had some.  If it had been for anything else I would have taken my money elsewhere, but bearing in mind that it is (probably) bad form to tell the poppy ladies to get knotted,  I went off into Sainsburys and got some stuff I really didn't want or need. When I came back to the poppy stall another nice poppy lady told me that nothing had any price; I should just give a donation and take what I wanted. I told her that her mate had told me that the metal badges were two quid each. This prompted the first nice poppy lady to come over and shout the price list at the second nice poppy lady.
Her mate then shouted back that nothing was priced; it was all donations according to what the punters wanted to give.
I got my metal badge and left as the nice poppy ladies started having a rather heated argument.
I then wasted fifteen minutes in the traffic queues trying to get out of the car park.

I got to work; I filled up on broccoli cheese and did that which I couldn't avoid. "Daddy’s Little Angel TM" phoned; apparently she had been going to church but had found the place was locked. I did wonder what she was going to church for. I can remember her brother getting religion some twenty years ago. It lasted for a day or so until he got chucked out of the church youth club. I can't see her getting religion somehow, but I suppose that she is bearing in mind the thirty-third Rule of Acquisition (It never hurts to suck up to the boss)

 I spent much of the day thinking about Georgia Toffolo… but not in the way that the more beastly element might. She was on telly when I got home last night (in some celebrity babysitter show). She is on telly quite a bit these days. Last night (on the TV show) she said she was a “social media influencer”. There’s a totally meaningless phrase. Like no end of people before her she would seem to be famous for being famous. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not knocking her. But she’s been on telly for quite a few years now. Most people of her age who are going in to my line of work are only just qualifying or still studying. It boils my piss that you probably lead a far more lucrative lifestyle being a “social media influencer” than you ever would doing what I do.

No comments:

Post a Comment