I managed a bit more sleep last night but was still
wide awake at three o’clock. I gave it an hour before giving up, getting up and
watching a bit of telly over an early brekkie.
I watched an episode of “The Young Ones”, then
with a bit of time on my hands I had a look at the monthly accounts. They could
be a whole lot better… but they could also be a whole lot worse. Perhaps I
worry too much about money? After all, what is it for if not to squander
foolishly?
It was very dark as I left home this morning. Not so
nice next door had parked her car ridiculously close to mine, which made me
chuckle. Bearing in mind the obvious difficulty she has when moving her
car about you'd have thought she'd have left a decent amount of space, wouldn't
you?
I didn't fancy the scrum at Sainsbury's this morning
so I popped in to the co-op where I got pretty much the same lunch as
Sainsbury's do, but twenty pence cheaper. It pays to shop about. I had hoped to
get a coronation chicken sandwich as earlier in the year the chap behind the
counter had adamantly assured me that they only do those at Christmas, but
either they had sold out or he was talking rubbish. Either way I roughed it
with a cheese and ham sandwich. It wasn't the same.
As I paid, the co op staff were loudly discussing the
price of pouches of tobacco. Apparently the cheapest place to get the stuff
locally is from Deliveroo. I always thought they just delivered the stuff; I
didn't think they sourced it. Perhaps the delivery driver is flogging hooky
stuff as a sideline?
As I drove up the motorway the pundits on the radio
were talking about how the King has recorded his fourth Christmas speech.
Four... the late Queen died the day after my father died, so this will be my
fourth Christmas as an orphan. For all that the drive to Hastings is something
of a pain in the glass, I'd like to go see my mum and dad for Christmas again.
And so to work. A colleague had made some cookies and
cakes for today, and one of the bosses had brought in some sweeties too. It was
good to get fed. Back in the day there used to be loads of stuff brought in
over the festive period, and this was the first I'd seen this year (not that I
show up much these days). When I was manager I used to bring in a tub of
sweeties every day in December. I've often said that in retrospect I think I
did being a manager wrongly.
Mind you I probably overdid the sweeties; I had
something of a bellyache for most of the day today. And it was a
surprisingly busy day.
I can distinctly remember the first ever Christmas Eve
I worked… forty-four years ago in 1981. Things were very different back then.
The old Royal East Sussex Hospital probably had about a hundred and fifty beds,
and back in the day the hospital effectively closed for Christmas with pretty
much every patient that could possibly be sent home going home for Christmas.
Maybe a dozen remained over the holiday. No outpatients or GP patients had
blood samples taken. And consequently our day’s work was done by eleven
o’clock. We all set off to the pub at quarter to twelve (leaving the boss
running the show) and we drank ourselves silly until the boss came down the
pub at about two o’clock having been relieved by the night shift (who had
come in shortly after two o’clock). The boss got more beers in, and after a
few more drinks we all suddenly felt sorry for the poor night shift person on
their own so we all went back to help them. I say “help them”; there was
nothing to help them with, so having made our offer of help we all sat in the
reception area drinking whiskey until none was left. We then all staggered to
the bus station; a five minute walk which took us half an hour, and we then all
made our various ways home on the bus. Happy days.
I can remember Christmas Eves in the mid-nineties.
Back then we got the day off after a night shift… not that there was much to do
at night back then. With a dedicated bedroom for us in the nurses home we’d be
asleep by one o’clock and be called out if needed. We weren’t needed much back
then, and call-outs lasted half an hour at most. Getting up more than twice was
pretty much unheard of. Consequently we wouldn’t be needing to spend the day
after a night shift fast asleep like we do these days.
I used to do the night of December 23rd so
that I would be off on Christmas Eve. “er indoors TM”, “Daddies’ Little Angel TM”
and “My Boy TM” would already be at my mum’s house
in Hastings. I’d get the mid-morning train on Christmas Eve and my brother
would meet me as the train pulled into Hastings. We’d stage an epic booze-up,
then go to Sainsbury’s for the last ten minutes that they were opened to snap
up bargains. I say “bargains”; we’d just buy reduced tat. The store
staff would announce random reductions and the masses would fight for stuff
they would never otherwise buy.
My mum never seemed to want the bargains we took home
for her…
Fast forward to today… Which was just like any other
day at work…
And I’ve got to work tomorrow as well…
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