Last night I'd volunteered to do the night shift because of the mayhem that would follow because of the building works that were scheduled to take place at work last night. I suspected the worst as I arrived at the hospital grounds: as I drove in, so the builder's van drove out. I went in to find not a builder in sight. Fortunately the boss had given me other jobs to do overnight as well as generally chipping in where I could. Unfortunately I finished the jobs she'd given me within a couple of hours. I was rather miffed. Having been messed about for the two previous weekends and having trashed my plans for this weekend, there was no way I was going to come home and give up the overtime. So (being an industrious soul) I found some other jobs that needed doing, and kept myself busy all night long.
It was odd: during the evenings at home I am always dropping off. Being at work I stayed awake all night without a problem. And when the day shift came in I gave the shift leader an earful, and instructions to let me know if I would be needed tonight. I would rather not go in if I can avoid it, for all that I need the wonga.
As I walked to my car, so the contractors arrived. I (politely) asked them what they were playing at. They were quite happy and told me that he works were scheduled from 8am this morning to 8am tomorrow morning. Oh well. A night's money is always useful. And as I got home so my mobile rang - it was the shift leader confirming that I was needed tonight.
I went to bed and slept for about an hour or so, and then lay awake wishing I could sleep more, and got up about mid day. Over a late brekkie I perused Facebook, and then went over the road with the offer of a cup of tea. I'd noticed a bus on the pavement over the road from us. It had clearly broken down, so we wondered if the driver would like a cuppa. He was grateful for the offer, but had been to the corner shop for refreshment already.
We left him awaiting the recovery vehicle, and wandered to the park where we met up with the denizens of Queen Street (what a wonderful street name!). We spent a pleasant afternoon at the park, playing with the kiddies on swings and roundabouts and zip lines. Viccy park is a far better place than people give it credit for, and it was good to see it being used by so many people. It was a glorious day, with the sun shining, daffodils out, and people picnic-ing, playing games, and generally enjoying themselves. I can hardly believe that only six weeks ago we were sledging in that same park.
On the way home we picked up catalogues dropped earlier in the week, and came home to find the broken bus was still where we'd left it. And then I slobbed in front of the telly, sulking about the thought of having to go to work. Over the last few months I've really come to see the Saturday film night as one of the week's highlights, and really resented having to miss the gathering tonight...
It was odd: during the evenings at home I am always dropping off. Being at work I stayed awake all night without a problem. And when the day shift came in I gave the shift leader an earful, and instructions to let me know if I would be needed tonight. I would rather not go in if I can avoid it, for all that I need the wonga.
As I walked to my car, so the contractors arrived. I (politely) asked them what they were playing at. They were quite happy and told me that he works were scheduled from 8am this morning to 8am tomorrow morning. Oh well. A night's money is always useful. And as I got home so my mobile rang - it was the shift leader confirming that I was needed tonight.
I went to bed and slept for about an hour or so, and then lay awake wishing I could sleep more, and got up about mid day. Over a late brekkie I perused Facebook, and then went over the road with the offer of a cup of tea. I'd noticed a bus on the pavement over the road from us. It had clearly broken down, so we wondered if the driver would like a cuppa. He was grateful for the offer, but had been to the corner shop for refreshment already.
We left him awaiting the recovery vehicle, and wandered to the park where we met up with the denizens of Queen Street (what a wonderful street name!). We spent a pleasant afternoon at the park, playing with the kiddies on swings and roundabouts and zip lines. Viccy park is a far better place than people give it credit for, and it was good to see it being used by so many people. It was a glorious day, with the sun shining, daffodils out, and people picnic-ing, playing games, and generally enjoying themselves. I can hardly believe that only six weeks ago we were sledging in that same park.
On the way home we picked up catalogues dropped earlier in the week, and came home to find the broken bus was still where we'd left it. And then I slobbed in front of the telly, sulking about the thought of having to go to work. Over the last few months I've really come to see the Saturday film night as one of the week's highlights, and really resented having to miss the gathering tonight...
No comments:
Post a Comment