I rolled my eyes when I turned on my lap-top this morning. Facebook was awash with those twee memes about “always being there for people who want a chat”. All sorts of people were posting them today. I didn’t join in. It was my experience that when I really needed someone for a chat, the very people I thought would be there for me weren’t, and people I barely knew stepped up. But then this is what social media is all about, isn’t it?
There was a bit of talk on my old school’s Facebook group wondering about old teachers. One had recently died (aged ninety-seven), and some of them are still going. My old school’s Facebook group is rather interesting if only for seeing what my contemporaries have done, and wondering what might have been. People with whom I went to school have ended up in all the corners of the world. Some are in Sweden, some in America, some in Australia, some in the Medway towns, one just down the road from me. Some have become millionaires, some are skint.
I had a message via Facebook from Rita Kornegay who (so she claims) is a single woman in UK who would like me to video chat with her and the lots of beautiful women who are (apparently) waiting for me.
They can all wait.
I also had an email from the nice people at Credit Karma. A few months ago (in a moment of boredom) I signed up with them, and the emails I they send me are frankly incomprehensible. They suggest that to improve my credit score I should ask the bank for a higher credit limit on my credit card. But when I used the card for major expenses (such as Fudge’s vet bills, car servicing and Sid’s funeral costs) my credit score went down?
I then spent some time trying to get ready for tomorrow’s planned geo-maintenance walk out at Great Chart. I printed off some paper logs and tried to cut them to size. “Tried” being the operative word. Scissors come in two types. “Cutting scissors” which actually cut that which you are trying to cut, and “chewing scissors” which cut nothing at all, but just chew at whatever it is you are trying to cut and mangle it. The manufacturers unfortunately make no such distinction, and it has been my experience that for every pair of “cutting scissors” I have had, I have had twenty pairs of “chewing scissors”.
I then wasted half an hour searching for bisons. Bisons are small metal geocache containers. I have a stash of half a dozen or more of the things which are always in my way when I don’t need them. But when I do need them, they grow legs, walk away and hide from me. So I buy more, use one, and add the rest to the growing stash which reappears when I’m not actively searching for it.
As I drove off towards work so the radio was playing the "From Our Own Correspondent" program. Have you ever listened to that at all? I can't recommend it - it is incredibly depressing. Today's show featured reports on children held in detention camps on the US-Mexico border, all sorts of unpleasantness coming from the recent political pardons in Spain, concerns from Afghanistan where locals are fleeing in terror as the western alliance is pulling out... I turned it off and headed up the motorway singing along to an Ivor Biggun CD. I made rather good time; I was rather conscious of my trip to the Saturday late shift a month ago when I spent three hours stuck in traffic.
Seeing the queues for the drive-through McDonalds I went straight to work where I got dinner from the works canteen. It wasn't bad... Usually their food is rather good. Today's wasn't anything I could complain about but was a minor disappointment compared to what I usually get. However I've had far worse food elsewhere at far greater cost.
Work was work – rather quiet for a Saturday late shift for which I was grateful. As I took a break I saw that my boss had resigned. The Health Secretary has jumped before he got pushed. Despite allegations of giving backhanders to his mate’s husband and allegations of having it away with said mate, he’s actually going because of pictures of him braking social distancing guidelines whilst doing the dirty deed with her.
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