Despite a rather good
night's sleep I woke with rather a bad back this morning which gave
me grief all day. In retrospect I should have taken a sickie.
Sometimes it seems to me that I take far less sick leave than the
rest of the universe. Perhaps I should look after myself from time to
time?
Over brekkie my dog sat
on my lap and chewed his new toy whilst I watched the next DVD set on
my shelf - "Earth 2". At first appearance it might
seem a rather run-of-the-mill sci-fi show but it has one major
difference to most of the other shows on telly. There are no military
characters, nor is anyone in any police force.
Perhaps that is why I
liked it, and why the show was cancelled. But it was entertaining
enough whilst I scoffed my toast.
Being on the late shift I
left for work rather later than I usually do, and I met all the rush
hour traffic. As I drove the Foreign Secretary was being harangued on
the radio. He spoke for ten minutes about the current situation in
Syria without actually saying anything. That is a good trick if you
can do it; I would imagine it is invaluable in a politician.
Apparently today marks
the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the National Theatre. To
commemorate the occasion the pundits on the radio staged a telephone
interview with an old luvvie who had been in the first ever
performance staged by the National Theatre. The talk was all of "how
lucky we are as a nation", "the envy of the world",
but no one seemed to pick up on the fact that the one being
interviewed had long since upped sticked and moved to America from
where she was telephoning.
Today also marks the two
hundred and sixteenth anniversary of the first
recorded parachute jump.
Being before aeroplanes,
this jump was from a hot air balloon.
I would like to have done
a parachute jump. Now let's read that sentence carefully. I would
like to have done one. I certainly would not like to actually do one.
To work where I did my
bit. Last night I made my lunch and I put it in the fridge overnight.
When I opened the box this morning I found that a toblerone had
appeared in it. That was a welcome surprise.
And with my bit done I
came home. I dislike the A28. This morning as I drove there was a
fool in the car behind itching to overtake me. He eventually flew
past on a dangerous bend only to find the queue of traffic that was
holding me back. I followed this twit for the next eight miles. This
evening I was again in the thick of the drunken drivers; driving down
the centre of the road at twenty five miles per hour.
One wonders about the
entire concept of traffic police...
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