I woke only an hour before the alarm was due to
go off this morning. I woke to find I was holding my dog's leg. He didn't seem
bothered.
Over brekkie I watched "The Secret Diary of a Call Girl".
My SkyPlus box had recorded it for me. It is a strange device with (seemingly) a mind of its own. It doesn't
record what I ask it to; it doesn't record what I'd like to see. But it does
record random rubbish. I have recorded "The Secret Diary of a Call Girl" in the past so perhaps that is
why it thought I'd be interested. Still, I'm not complaining. There are worse
things to watch whilst eating toast than Billie Piper's stunt double running
round in the nip.
I left home a few minutes earlier than I might
have done so's I could have another look for that geocache which I so
spectacularly failed to find yesterday. Despite what the cache's C.O. had
emailed me, my sums weren't that far off. In fact I found it in *exactly* the
place I'd looked yesterday.
I then went on to work despite a minor hold-up.
There was a dead deer in the road. I say "deer" - it was clearly a stag (with quite spectacular antlers) laying sprawled across the A28.
Poor thing. There were several cars pulled up and quite a few people milling
about.
Perhaps they were all hoping for a share of the
carcass. I wonder what happens to road-kill deer. They must be worth quite a
bit for the venison.
As
I drove I listened to the radio. Despite their best efforts the scientists at
the ESA haven't been able to contact the Schiaparelli probe which landed on Mars
yesterday, and the Juno probe currently orbiting
Mars has gone into "safe mode"
following its second major hiccup in two weeks.
I got to work and struggled a little. I might
grumble about night work, but when I'm doing night (or weekend) work I only do two consecutive shifts. Today was day
four of five day shifts. I'm finding this far more hard work than doing two (admittedly longer) night shifts. Mind
you I did slip off early; I had an out-patient appointment at another hospital.
Regular readers of this drivel may recall I had
surgery to remove nasal polyps a couple of years ago (on Tuesday 4 November 2014). They've grown back. After ten minutes
of my telling this to the specialist he shoved an endoscope up my nose. He then
told me my airways are about ninety per cent blocked, and said the only real
cure is to cut the polyps out again. I knew that already…
I went to Tesco do get all the medicines I need
to take during the week leading up to the operation, and I’ve now got to wait
to be told when the surgery will be.
Perhaps
I should have gone back to work but having endoscopes shoved up my nose wasn’t
comfortable so I went home to sulk. I took "Furry Face TM"
for a little walk; we came home after ten minutes soaked by the torrential
rain. So I watched one of this week’s episodes of “Game of Thrones” whilst I did some ironing.
I then
messed about astroclubsecretarying until "er indoors TM"
came home. We had a rather good bit of scoff; now there’s a film on: “The Lying Old Witch in the Wardrobe”.
Eustace has gone to Banania…
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