I was woken by a loud
thump at about 3am. I assumed it was Fudge jumping the dog-proofing
on the kitchen gate, and so I expected to feel him jump on the bed
after a few seconds. He does that sometimes. But not this time. I
pondered on what the noise might had been, but it the absence of any
more racket I carried on dozing fitfully. When I went downstairs at
5.30am Furry Face was curled up in his basket (where he was supposed
to be). I wonder what that crashing had been earlier .
And so another early
start saw me scoffing my frooty-bix cereal and Fudge lapping up his
bowl of milk before 6am. I got my morning's fix of Babylon 5 and I
set off to work.
For once the morning's
news was unremarkable. There were ructions about the Prime Minister's
proposed tour around Europe; apparently the rest of the European
Heads of State are seeing it as little more than a political
publicity stunt. As if any politician's activities have ever have
been anything else. There was concern about changes to the welfare
benefits; those that need the benefits don't get them. Those that
don't need it do get them. Same as it ever was, unfortunately. And
apparently some dead South American author is to be exhumed after
thirty years to see if he really died of natural causes or to see if
he was poisoned.
All rather dull. For once
my piss remained at ambient temperature.
Two new geocaches had
gone live (almost) along my way to work. I could have stopped off and
had a hunt for them. But I hadn't allowed myself enough time. I'll
save them for later.
And so to work where I
did my bit. I can't really complain. It's no secret that I would like
to change what I do for a living. It's also no secret that after
eighteen months of active job hunting I've got nowhere. So I shall
stick with what I know.
The morning's news was
unremarkable - the evening's not so. Margaret Thatcher had died
during those intervening few hours. I can remember when she came to
power. The country was in a terrible state. She sorted things out.
She was a force to be reckoned with. Love her or loathe her; people
respected her... at the start. After eleven years of her it all wore
rather thin.
History will probably
quote her as an example of why Americans only let their presidents
serve for two terms...
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