After an hour of laying
awake I got up and was watching "Chewing Gum"
shortly after 6am. A rather overlooked series; it is actually quite
good.
I then spent a little
while having a look-see on Amazon (dot com). "Daddies
Little Angel TM" has recently shown an
interest in post-apocalyptic fiction and I was seeing what was going
cheap in the genre. There are quite a lot of rather good books of
that type by John Wyndham and Edmund Cooper. I wonder what she will
make of Triffids and the Kraken?
It was raining as I set
off to work. That reminded me I needed to get new wellies so I went
to B&Q. I got there and asked where the wellies were. I was
rudely directed to the garden section by some old battleaxe who
clearly didn't like being at work at 7am. I'd already tried the
garden section - the door to that area was locked. So I told that to
the old battleaxe who sighed and marched over to the automatic doors
which were indeed locked. Using brute force she wrenched them open
and told me that if I got locked in I should shout and someone would
come and let me out.
I found the wellington
boots in a heap. Some had sizes on them; some did not. So I forced
open the doors from the garden section to the main store and walked
out.
On 7
January of this year I blogged about how rude the staff in B&Q
are. I keep forgetting what a crap shop it is; every time I go there
I always end up wasting my time and then going somewhere else.
The
morning's news boiled my piss (as it so often does). The
Health Secretary is offering junior doctors a stonking great pay
rise. Or so it seems. He's actually offering a pay rise on the one
hand whilst cutting overtime rates. Been there, had that shoved down
my throat...
But it speaks volumes
that no one cares what is he offering physiotherapists, pharmacists,
optometrists, biomedical scientists, audiologists, transfusion
practitioners, painters, gardeners, porters, cleaners, cooks,
electricians, plumbers, secretaries, radiographers and all the other
NHS workers who aren't doctors and nurses.
I got to work, did some,
and came home via the garden centre in Chartham where I got my
wellies. Once home I took "Furry Face TM"
for his walk. He then had his tea, and with "er indoors TM"
off flogging candles I had mine. Before 8pm which was really good.
Mind you being home alone
means I'm bored. And next door has been clanging the same irritating
scales on their f@*@ing piano for three hours now. It is Mrs next
door who does it. She does it purely to irritate nutty Mr next door.
His drunken screeching
will start soon...
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