I slept like a log; nearly nine miles walking yesterday had taken its toll. I watched an episode of “Drifters” as I scoffed toast, then peered into the Internet. The photos I’d posted yesterday had a fair few “likes”.
I saw that as we’d been walking my cousin had been to a stage show in London, and afterwards had met quite a few of the people who had starred in it. She’d posted a lot of photos of the celebrities onto Facebook and (fortunately) had captioned who they were. I’d heard the names, but she really could have posted up photos of random people in the street for all that I recognise any of the celebrities these days.
Also whilst we’d been walking yesterday, other people had been walking round the series of geocaches I’d out in Kings Wood and had said nice things about them on-line (which was a result).
I had an email. Interestingly my credit score (at Credit Karma) has gone down another five points. That’s a drop of about twenty points over the last couple of months. I wonder why? – I’ve not done anything different recently.
I sent out birthday wishes, and taking care to let sleeping dogs lie I got ready for work.
Pausing only briefly to cap a couple of Munzees I was soon on my way to work. I managed to get onto the motorway despite the queue of lorries seemingly deliberately blocking all traffic coming up the slip road, and after two miles I was able to get out of the fast lane. The slow lane was full of lorries going at fifty miles per hour, and the middle lane was full of lorries going at fifty-one miles per hour.
I've ranted about this before.
As I drove the pundits on the radio were were talking about how the leader of the Scottish Nationalists Nicola Sturgeon is calling for another independence referendum for Scotland, but not until the COVID crisis has been resolved. Talking about some time in 2023, she ain't daft. She's seen how Brexit has lost Cornwall a hundred million quid in funding form the EU and she wants the English tax-payers to bail out the Scottish NHS in the short term.
Talking of which there was quite a bit of NHS bashing on the radio today. It was claimed that one in five patients have been forced to go private to get treatments. Well, the NHS is under pressure because of the global pandemic, but here's a question. Has anyone noticed that the doctors you see in the private clinics are the same ones you see in the NHS hospitals? If a specialist is too busy to see you in the NHS hospital, why isn't she too busy to see you in the private clinic? Money talks... and to many people it is saying "piss off, pauper!"
I stopped off at the petrol station to fill up the car. Amazingly the card reader machine worked. I commented about this to the spotty oik behind the till who pretended that there had never been an issue with the thing. Obviously he'd had a talking-to from his manager since I was last there when he told me how bad the thing had been.
I got to work for the early shift and did my bit. Today was a rather good day. What with a colleague having had a birthday and another colleague having returned from maternity leave we had more cake than sense.
At lunch time I had a message from “er indoors TM”. Why (and how) did I go across the Dartford crossing only once (heading south) on June 2nd of this year. Checking my diary and my Google timeline it would seem I didn't get any closer to the Dartford crossing than Maidstone. Obviously the automated number plate recognition gadget had gone wrong. I wonder how many other people have had this happen to them and have been billed for crossings they didn’t make?
With work worked I came home. I did have a plan to take the dogs out, but “er indoors TM” had plans for a Munzee mission so she took them out whilst I cracked on in the garden. Cutting back the overgrowth from not-so-nice-next-door, mowing the lawn… it all takes time and with storms forecast for tomorrow I thought I’d better get on with it whilst I could. And with lawn mowed I spent an hour or so fighting with programming coding in GSAK and eventually got my GPS working how it should be working despite (rather then thanks to) the dedicated Facebook help group.
I wonder what’s for dinner…