Do you ever have one of those dreams
where you know it’s a dream and so you can do whatever you like because it
doesn’t matter what you do because it is all a dream? I had one last night, and
knowing it was a dream I went to find an old workplace bully and deliberately
punched her as hard as I could in the throat to intentionally try to kill her.
The force of my fist hitting the pillow woke me.
Having woken and thought about it I’m
not entirely sure I’m happy about this. There are a few people who aren’t at
the top of my Christmas list. There are some people I know loathe and despise
me. And I must admit the one in my dream was one who royally screwed me over
for bitter and vindictive reasons. But for me to want to punch her in the
throat so’s she would choke to death... I thought I was better than that.
As I scoffed my brekkie I saw that not
much had happened on-line overnight, and seeing there was a parking space
outside the house I got dressed and went to move my car. However in the
meantime someone had beaten me to that space. It was the woman who lives a few
doors down. I watched for fifteen minutes as she tried to park. Most people who
live in our road can’t park their cars. They all drive into parking spaces
forwards and then to-and-fro trying to get near to the pavement. This morning
the woman I was watching simply couldn’t get within two feet of the kerb.
After a while the novelty wore off and I
loaded the remains of the broken fence panel (from Friday) and the broken fence posts (from Saturday) into my car together with half a ton (I think literally) of concrete fragments.
It would have been a much easier job had I been able to have parked within
fifty yards of home.
Narrowly avoiding the cyclist who was
falling all over Brookfield Road I got to the tip at ten past nine. It was
incredibly busy for that time on a Bank Holiday. As usual the place was
overflowing with people who had less than a carrier bag’s worth of rubbish. The
tip staff had something of a dilemma when I asked them if my fence post was
wood rubbish (because of the post) or
hard core rubbish (because of the
concrete). After a major discussion they decided “wood” because I was parked next to the wood skip.
We all then waited for an unnecessary
ten minutes because some idiot woman had parked right in the exit. She had a
handful of rubbish and seemed to be in something of a daydream as she stared
into the skip, but eventually she got out of the way.
I had planned to do a second tip run to
get rid of the rusted bikes, but parking was tight at home. I wouldn’t have been
able to lift the bikes into my car without scratching the car behind.
We settled the dogs and drove down to
Hastings; my mum had been poorly in the week. We took a rather circuitous route
via Doleham (for geo-reasons) and was
with mum and dad for a couple of hours. Mum put on a light lunch. Sausage rolls
with mustard (oh yes) and raspberry
pavlova (double oh yes).
We would have stayed longer, but the
dogs needed a walk, so we came home and took the dogs to the park. They played
in the river for some time. For all that Fudge hobbles about, I am of the
opinion that much of it is for show. He charges about in the river like a thing
possessed.
Once home I was able to get my car
outside the house, and I got the remains of the three rusted bikes into the
boot. As I wrestled with the carcasses of the bikes a passing busybody asked
what I was doing with the bikes. On hearing they were going to the skip he got
quite vocal about how they were salvageable and probably worth good money. I
offered him the bikes but he didn’t want them. However that didn’t shut him up.
I think he just liked the sound of his own voice. Interestingly this chap had a
very obvious black eye where someone had recently given him a slap.
I got to the tip which was again full of
idiots. One woman had her car boot open. It was full of boxes of rubbish and
she was taking rubbish from the boxes to the skips two pieces at a time (one in each hand). She *really* couldn’t have been in any hurry.
I got rid of the scrap metal which was
once bikes, and came home to tidy up the back yard a little. A bit of a sweep,
a bit of a rummage and I had loads more bags of rubbish. However by then it was
too late to go back to the tip. I then had a vague idea to do some of the
gardening that I didn’t get done on Saturday, but I was hurting too much. I
contented myself with gathering up dog turds and hanging up our green man
garden ornament. I could have done some water feature maintenance, but I’d had
enough by then.
I had a shower and then wrote up some CPD. Dull stuff,
but one day I will be glad that I’ve been writing it up. Every so often us professional
blood testers have to show we are doing CPD. As I CPD-ed "er indoors TM"
tidied up the bedroom. She’s boiling up dinner now. There is talk of a bottle
of plonk with it…
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