This
morning's news gave me food for thought. Or drink for thought, to
be more precise. The latest recommendations (from those who
recommend such things) is that we should all have at least two
days a week when we don't have any alcoholic drinks. Well, I probably
only have two days a week when I have a drink. (My problem is that
I don't have "a" drink - I have too much in one go!)
The radio program
interviewed a broadcaster who'd given up all alcoholic drinks for a
month: the chap interviewed said that he hadn't really missed the
booze. The radio program then interviewed a professor-type who
claimed that not missing the booze was the reaction of most people.
And, having been relatively off of the booze for the last few months
as part of the ongoing diet, I'm coming to that point of view myself.
In years gone by I would be looking forward to the upcoming beer
festival at Dover. But (quite frankly) I'm finding myself
questioning the sanity of spending the best part of one hundred
pounds just to make myself feel ill for two days.
Don't get me wrong - I
can't see myself going teetotal; but cutting back can't be a bad
thing, and is probably going to be the way forward for this year.
Last Saturday I mentioned
that I'd broken a tooth. I phoned the dentist today to see about
getting a fix. They said they could fit me in at 2pm. So I sucked up
to the boss, and got the afternoon off work. One economy I really
don't want to make is my dental insurance. I shell out a monthly
premium, and all my dentistry is done for free.
As I got into the
dentist's chair, the dentist commented on how much weight I'd lost.
He then rooted in my gob. Apparently in the fullness of time the
broken tooth will need capping, but for now he's effected a fix to be
getting on with. I couldn't help but wonder why he didn't cap the
thing right away. But then I remembered another tooth that has a
temporary fix on it: that temporary fix has been in place for five
years.
Having booked the
afternoon off work for the dentist, I found myself back home by
2.30pm. So I spent an hour or so putting in applications for jobs. I
applied for a dozen or so jobs. the applications might do some good:
they might not. If nothing else it will remind the agencies that I'm
still keen.
And having prepared tea
(to save "er indoors TM" a job)
I climbed into my snuggie and slept in front of the telly.
I spent quite a lot of
time trying to get my snuggie organised - it seemed to be very open
at the front, and the pockets were in rather daft places. I've
eventually found that wearing it back to front (that is with the
opening at the back) puts the pockets in the right place and has
me covered up at the front. All I need to do now is to figure out
how to get it to go down to cover my feet. Mind you, when I stand up
whilst wearing the thing I seem to trip over it. So extending it over
my feet might not be a good idea.
Mind you, it's still
early days as far as the snuggie is concerned...
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