19 December 2025 (Friday) - A Day At Work

I had a relatively early night last night and got an hour’s sleep before “er indoors TM and the dogs came up. There was a minor squabble with the dogs, then just as everyone was getting settled someone trod on Bailey.
I then saw every twenty minutes from then on. I gave up trying to sleep at half past four, got up, made toast and watched an episode of “This is England”. It was a Christmas one, and was thoroughly depressing.
 
I had a little look at the Internet. It was still there. Nothing much had happened overnight… or by six o’clock anyway. But I was slightly surprised. Usually every time I look up anything on the Internet I am then inundated with adverts for whatever it was. Infinity tables, Lego, DVD boxed sets… I was expecting endless adverts for fish tank plants and snails, but nothing.
I Munzed. I wordled from “short” through “hairy” to getting it with “myrrh” on the third go. But, to be honest, what other words have a y in them but not at the end?
I opened my Advent Calendar and got ready for work.
 
I got into my car and sat and waited for the bin lorry to get out of the way so that I could drive off... and the very second it moved a few yards up the road, some idiot drove his car to where the bin lorry had been. He then sat and glared at me as though it was my fault that the bin lorry was blocking the road. I smiled sweetly as I watched this chap's blood pressure go through the roof. He clearly wasn't happy about having to wait for the bin lorry to get out of the way.
 
I drove up the motorway through the Operation Brock stupidity. There's talking of moving Operation Brock to the bit of the motorway between Ashford and Folkestone.  That would suit me just fine... all the time I am going to work and not going to Folkestone.
 
As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about how the EU is going to lend the Ukrainian government ninety billion Euros. I say "lend" - apparently no money will be repaid until the Ukrainian government gets reparations from the invading Russians... that ain't going to happen, is it? Apparently the Europeans weren't brave enough to give the Ukrainians the two hundred billion Euros of Russian assets that they've frozen. I can't say I blame them.  I must admit that if I were Mr. Putin I'd be seeing this European funding of the war against him as tantamount to a declaration of war in itself.  
 
I drove up to Sainsburys to get some lunch and some supplies. I was rather surprised to smell "funny fags" as I got out of the car. For all that it is supposedly still illegal, I'm smelling the stuff pretty much everywhere I go.
 
I got to work. I did my bit. Bearing in mind how wet it had been for much of yesterday I looked out of the window and sulked. In between working I did my e-learning. I learned about CPR...  apparently if you are trying to resuscitate "a person with breasts" you are allowed to touch "the breasts" whilst performing chest compressions.  One lives and learns. I must admit that if someone was about to croak, allegations about goosing up the jubbllies would be rather lower down the list of concerns than having them croaking. Also I thought everyone had breasts; just some people's (women's) were a tad jubblier than others (men's), but what do I know. 
 
With work worked I came home through Operation Brock again. Once home as a special treat we had KFC for tea. Their Gravy Box was rather good, and only (!) eight hundred calories.
 
I’ve spent much of today thinking about an old friend. I first met Phil at primary school when I was five years old. We went through school together, we were in the Boys Brigade together. In my Advent Calendar today I had Frosty the Snowman. Whenever it snowed he would sing his song about Frosty the Snowman:
 
“Frosty the Snowman
Lost his left ball in a fight
Then by a strange coincidence
The same happened to the right
 
Frosty the Snowman
A happy little soul
Give the f…er any lip 
He’ll kick you up the a… hole
 
He would sing this, barely pausing for breath, for three miles through the snow on our way to school, and for three miles through the snow on the way home after.
He moved to Sweden about forty years ago. There’s a lot of snow there, and presumably lots of snowmen.

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