The toaster had a little episode in that it wouldn't
actually toast anything this morning. I have a vague recollection of “er
indoors TM” having had a fight with it yesterday claiming
something inside had caught fire. I gave it a clout and it eventually did that
which was expected of it. I just hope that when the machines rise up the
toaster will have forgotten this morning's altercation.
After I'd gone to kip last night “er indoors TM”
had been at the new telly, and it all works through the Sky-Q handset now, and
starts up in Sky-Q mode (as it should) rather than in some strange
Amazon thingy mode.
I scoffed toast as I stared at the telly. It was playing
the first episode of "Fat Friends"; a
show originally broadcast over twenty years ago. I won't be bothering with the
second episode; it boiled my piss. Being a fat sod myself (and having been
so for most of my life) there is nothing more irritating that people
banging on about how fat they are when in fact they are quite substantially
thinner than I am.
I set off to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were
interviewing the leader of the Scottish Green Party. This chap
had come on to the radio having already
decided what he was going to say, and he started talking and talking about
heaven only knows what. When asked any questions he just kept talking. He spoke
over the interviewer every time the chap tried to say anything, and flatly
refused to answer the questions put to him.
He won't be getting my vote...
I got to work and cracked on. As I peered down the
microscope I made a few phone calls.
I phoned the pension people. Apparently I won't get any
formal notification about my pension payments; there is no equivalent of a
payslip which comes with the wages. I asked how I find out what tax I've paid
on my pension... it seems I don't.
I phoned the bank's helpline to arrange an appointment at
the local branch tomorrow. It wasn't easy. I *think* the woman I spoke
to said to just turn up at the branch and that I didn't need an appointment,
and that I should also book an appointment on-line.
I booked one on-line just in case.
I left a message for the ENT people at the local hospital
to chivvy up the date of my nasal re-bore. They sent me a text to say I should
send them an email.
And I booked a slot at the tip tomorrow. I've got a
poggered telly to get rid of.
As I worked I was introduced to a new boss. Back in the day
when I was management I was a "chief biomedical scientist".
These days we have an "operational lead". How times change. To
be honest I never thought I was much good as a "chief biomedical
scientist" (which is why I gave it up); I know I would be
hopeless as an "operational lead".
I came home, and “er indoors TM” boiled
up sausages and chips before going off bowling as she does. I sparked up the
new telly. Netflix told me that based on what I’d told it I liked, it thought I
might like to watch “Gunpowder”;
a drama series based on the Gunpowder Plot.
The first episode was rather good…
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