I woke feeling full of beans and raring to go... at
half past one. I then lay awake for much of the rest of the night before giving
up and getting up just before five o'clock.
I made toast and watched an episode of "The
Handmaid's Tale" in which I got scouting flashbacks. Rather than
talking, the lead character of the show was doing this arty-acting-thing
where she was supposedly communicating her feelings by pouting and smiling and
looking wistfully at the camera. Back in the day when I was a Cub Scout leader
one of “My
Boy TM”'s contemporaries used the same
technique to communicate. Rather than speaking, he would go up to someone and
grimace. He seriously expected people to know what he wanted simply by pulling
strange faces at them, and his success at communication was on a par with her
in the TV show this morning.
And with telly watched I got another coat of woodstain
onto the wood which I sawed yesterday, then set off for work.
It was a shame that I'd forgotten that there were
traffic works in Chart Road, but they only delayed me by ten minutes. I
was soon on my way up the motorway listening to the pundits on the radio who
were spouting their usual brand of drivel as they do. There was so much talk
about Andy Burnham. At the moment he really can do no wrong... it will only be
a matter of time before he is out on his arse like all the rest.
And there was a lot of talk about a national review of midwifery. Some
woman from some pressure group or other was being interviewed. She really
boiled my piss when she referred to babies that had been "killed by the
NHS". Was she seriously saying that health care professionals were
going out of their way to cause harm? That was the message that I got.
Admittedly the NHS isn't perfect, but giving air-time to this sort
of ranting does absolutely nothing for staff morale, does it?
I popped in to Sainsburys to get lunch , then went
into work. Earlier than I might have done. I spent quite a bit of time teaching
one of the trainees the mysteries of blood film morphology, but as the day wore
on the bad night's sleep did weigh on me.
I walked out of work past the hospital’s league of
fiends (!) shop who were again knocking out fruit. I got a punnet of
strawberries from them, and took a diversion to Aldi to get some cream.
Coming home was hard work. The motorway was seemingly
full of idiots trying to constantly tail-end everyone. I remembered not to
drive down Chart Road, but not doing so took me through the town centre… I was
only twenty minutes late home.
I got another coat of woodstain onto my sawn wood, and
we watched the last episodes of “Canal Boat Diaries” as we scoffed
dinner. We washed it down with a bottle of plonk; we got a job lot of cheap
plonk. At three quid a bottle it wasn’t at all bad. We’ve paid far more for far
worse…
And those strawberries were rather good too.
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