Another terrible night's sleep; with me seeing every hour of the night.
This appointment with the sleep clinic can't come fast enough for my liking. I
eventually got up shortly after 5.30am and shared my toast with my furry
associate watching yet more episodes of Family Guy. It's a bland enough show
for my waking mind.
I left for work a little earlier than usual; a frosty night had left
the car covered in ice. It don't scrape itself off you know.
As I drove to work there was talk about the western
governments getting together to talk about developments in the Ukraine and
Crimea. I can't help but feel that it's all a little bit late now as Russia
seems to have got its nose firmly in the Crimean
trough.
There was also talk about a radical change to Labour party policy;
leading lights in the socialist world had suggested that actually having some
policies might be a vote winner. As the Con-Servatives and Labour are neck and
neck in opinion polls a recommendation has been made that shouting "Don't
Vote for Them; They are Crap!" doesn't inspire as much confidence in a
potential government as saying what they would do given the current political
and economic climate.
I stopped off in Morrisons for some shopping before going to work. How
my piss boiled. I wanted sugar. Thos few of the staff who could be bothered to
acknowledge my presence had never heard of sugar; let alone knew where it was
kept.
And the self-service checkout was playing up. Wherever I tried to weigh
my apples the computerised scales inside the thing would crash. A numbskull
assistant came to help me. She announced that the scales worked better if you
weren't gentle with them and smacked the apples down. The scale still didn't
work. She bammed the apples harder. No joy. On the fifth smackdown the bag
burst and sprayed apples everywhere. She then said she'd use a different scale.
Her face was completely blank when I told her to leave the apples and go and
get me fresh ones. She asked why I wanted fresh ones, and seemed oblivious to
the concept that a dropped apple bruises. I asked if she'd ever actually eaten
an apple, but the expression remained blank.
And so to work. At lunch time I took myself to the far end of the car
park and had a little practice on my saxophone (which I’d brought along).
I mucked about with scales; I’m still having problems with “C”. It was
during a particularly vigorous toot that the elastic in my undercrackers gave
up and I spent the rest of the day constantly hoiking up my pants.
Once home I put
the lead onto “Furry Face TM “ and took him for a stroll. Whilst out we checked on one of my less-frequently
visited geocaches; the thing seems to have gone missing. This was another one
that had wasn’t cheap and quite frankly I’m inclined to archive it off and be
done with the thing. I’ve mentioned before about needing to archive some of my
more problematical caches. I shall make a start soon…
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