The morning at work was… well, odd, really. In my old job I felt that I had the responsibility to do absolutely everything and never had time to do anything. Now on the fifth week of my secondment I’m getting through loads of the work I’m supposed to be doing, but I still have this nagging feeling that I should really be doing hands-on blood tests and all the other stuff I’ve left behind. It’s odd – I get this feeling whilst in the hospital, but when working at Margate or working from home (like I did this afternoon) I’m quite content doing my own thing. Today’s “own thing” was some advice for students doing a post graduate qualification. I’ve put what I’ve done here. I’m soon going to run out of available web space. I suppose I shouldn’t really use my own, but should use work’s web space. Perhaps that could be a task for later in the week. Or if I reorganise my personal drivel, I could put off having to bother I.T. departments for a few days.
Last week I attempted to buy a mucky magazine to send into the Chokey, but failed miserably in my attempt to find a post office that sold such filth. Today I found one – only to find that the post office counter bit had closed down months (if not years) ago. Fortunately I’d already written out the envelope and was able to quickly stash the offending publication out of sight. As I walked into a functioning post office a couple of miles away I was bearing a very innocent-looking plain brown envelope. No one would ever know what I was sending through the post. Or that is they wouldn’t have if I hadn’t told the world what I was up to. I was expecting to have to spend pounds on posting the thing. It cost 76 pence. That’s not bad.
I hope he’s happy with it. Come to that - I hope he gets it - I’ve not looked inside the thing so I’ve absolutely no idea of how good, bad or indifferent the contents are. If it’s too saucy he might not be allowed to have it. Oh well – he asked me for it, and I’ve sent it off in the post. I’ve done my bit…
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