Over brekkie I finally
got round to watching the episode of “Gotham”
that was broadcast a couple of weeks ago. I wish I could remember what was
going on in that show.
I quickly sparked up
the lap-top to have a look at the Internet. Not much had happened overnight
which was a bonus. Dull is preferable to squabble.
As I drove to work the
pundits on the radio were interviewing some official from the government of
Rwanda. The UK government gives them sixty-four million quid a year
in foreign aid, and they are now giving half of it to Arsenal football club to
buy advertising for their tourist industry on the players’ shirts. The Rwandan
official got rather aggressive when it was pointed out that market research had
shown that the sort of person who looks at Arsenal FC football shirts isn’t the
sort of person who would consider a holiday in Rwanda. She took the line that their money is theirs
to spend how they like, and the fact that we gave them the money in the first
place was a matter of the utmost indifference to her. She got very aggressive
when the interviewer asked about her government’s record on human rights, and
seemed to imply that Radio Four would be better all round if the interviewers
lived under the fear of torture if they should offend their betters.
Up till this morning I
was all for foreign aid…
I got to work; I
skipped a tea break to have an eye test. Having an eye test at work is far more
convenient than going to SpecSavers and it saves quite a bit of cash too.
My eyes are unchanged
since my last test. And I’ve had mt prescription emailed to me. I won’t lose
that quite so easily as I lost the paper prescription.
Getting home from work
was a nightmare. A
huge sink hole has opened up in one of the roads in in Maidstone and
seemingly every car in the Maidstone area was on the M20 this evening. It took
me as long to drive the three miles to junction eight as it usually takes me to
drive the twenty miles to junction nine.
And when I got to
junction nine the traffic was queued back half a mile up the motorway.
I drove on to junction
ten and arrived there at the same time as the thunderstorm.
I was forty minutes
late getting home; "er
indoors TM"
was over an hour late.
The plan had been to go
round to Arden Drive for the gathering of the clans; but several people had
cried off, "er
indoors TM"
was running late, and the storm had unsettled the hounds. I didn’t want to
leave them.
I wonder what’s for tea…
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