As I scoffed toast this morning
I watched the first episode of “Love, Death and Robots”. It was rather violent, a tad saucy, and rather good. I wonder how
the rest of the series will pan out.
I felt rather smug as I looked
at the Internet this morning. Yesterday evening I did some CPD – I have to keep
up to date with all that goes in in the world of blood science (it’s a legal
requirement) and as part of that I wrote a little Google document about lymphocytes and posted
it to a work-related Facebook group. Overnight the thing had received nearly a
hundred and eighty “likes”. I was rather amazed at that. but then again,
there are thirty thousand people in that Facebook group of which less than
fifty contribute with any regularity. In many ways this is the Internet, isn’t
it? Everyone watches, few actually do things. I wish more people would.
I had another go at the end of
module quiz on that Coursera course I’m doing, and failed another three times. I
wondered if I might perhaps revisit a couple of the video lectures.
Pausing only briefly to fuss the
waking dogs I set off to find where I’d left my car.
As I drove to work the pundits
on the radio were talking about Brexit (as if they talk about anything else
these days). They were interviewing someone or other from the Democratic
Unionist Party who was taking great pains to claim that the Prime Minister
wasn't giving Northern Ireland massive amounts of money for the votes of their
MPs. Perhaps she is, perhaps she isn't. But either way it will take a *lot*
more votes than those of the DUP MPs to salvage the wreckage of her Brexit (so-called)
deal.
I must admit
my attention wavered as the radio show wittered on. For all that Brexit
actually is the most momentous thing to happen in British politics for years,
it is getting really tedious. There isn't really any chance of Parliament
agreeing on any deal, so either the Prime Minister should either give up at
trying to get a deal or give up with Brexit. The trouble is that both options
requires more courage than most politicians have got.
I stopped off
at Aldi to get my shopping. That was fun. I arrived just before they opened,
and when the doors opened, half a dozen of us walked in. One sour-faced woman
rushed past everyone, snatched the first thing on a shelf that came to hand,
slapped it on the conveyor belt at the till, and went off to get the rest of
her shopping. I got my bits and pieces and went to the till to see no one but
the cashier there. The cashier called me forward. I pointed out the shopping
that had been left on the conveyor. Was this supposed to stake a claim at the
front of the queue? The cashier insisted I came forward. So I did. I paid for
my bits, and the cashier then started serving the next customer. Quite a queue had formed behind me.
Just as I was
walking away the silly woman who'd put some stuff onto the conveyor came
running up, aggressively demanding that she was first in the queue and that
everyone else should take their turns. I hurried to my car as it all started to
kick off.
I do seem to
attract these nutters. Is it just me whose life is plagued by them?
I went to work, I had a rather
busy day, I came home again. "er indoors TM" boiled up a
rather good bit of dinner then went off bowling. I revisited the video lectures
on calcium transport in plant leaves and managed to pass the test on the sixth
attempt.
I’ve set the washing machine loose on my smalls; I might just watch some more of that “Love,
Death and Robots”; I wonder if it will carry on in the same vein?
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