Apart from one particularly vivid nightmare in which I had been conscripted (by the Prime Minister) to lead a group of Cub Scouts who had joined the Open University (?) I slept soundly for over nine hours last night. I eventually woke at half past seven feeling like death warmed up. I came downstairs where the smell of “er indoors TM”’s tea nearly (but not quite) made me throw up. The smell of tea first thing in the morning always does that to me.
Pausing only briefly to run out of shaving gel, the bathroom sink worked fine this morning, and soon I was peering into the Internet scoffing toast and swilling coffee (*not* tea!)
Facebook was surprisingly busy this morning. Last night seemed to be “post your old school photos” day to one of the Hastings Facebook pages, so I’d posted a photo of our class of ’75 in the hope that some old school friends might see it. Of the twenty-nine other people in the photo three are in my Facebook friends list, and I could name a dozen others, Mind you I don’t remember that photo being taken and I’m not sure which one was me. Someone who once was on my Facebook friends list and defriended me (no idea why) said she could name twenty-two of the people in the photo… but didn’t actually do so.
A friend had gone to see a live band playing locally last night and had posted up a little video. I’d like to think that it was his phone that hadn’t done the band justice; all I could hear was a bloody awful noise.
And there was a lot of talk about a march of support this weekend for the sacked P&O workers. P&O ferries have sacked eight hundred workers and has replaced them with people who will do the job cheaper. I suppose that now that the UK doesn’t have to mess about with those annoying European laws about workers’ rights, this is the free market for you… it is only a short step from this to sending children back down the mines, isn’t it?
I took Treacle for a little walk. Bearing in mind the state of the woods on Wednesday we just did a quick circuit of the park which passed off without incident. Treacle is as good as gold *if* she is left alone by those that she doesn’t know. She walked perfectly at heel all the way carrying her tennis ball, perfectly happy.
We came home, and I started “preparing for inspection”. I can vividly remember trying to tidy the house when the fruits of my loin were young. Back then “My Boy TM” flatly refused to co-operate in any way at all, repeatedly sarcastically asking if the Queen was coming. Nowadays we have to tidy up before he comes. He wanted to borrow a chess set today as he has decided to teach Cheryl how to play chess. I can just imagine her reaction to being told that a prawn goes all the way and becomes a queen. And then it can go any way it likes(!)
Just as I’d sorted out the landslide of carrier bags that collapsed when I pulled the Hoover out my phone beeped. He wouldn’t be collecting the chess set today after all.
I was vaguely disappointed by that. As Treacle snored on the sofa next to me, I played “Star Trek: Elite Force” for an hour or so and then (leaving her fast asleep) set off in the general direction of work.
I drove up to the co-op where the car park was heaving. The car park for the little row of shops there is nowhere near big enough. I went into the co-op and fought my way through a sea of schoolgirls. What were they doing in the co-op at mid-morning? Why weren't they at school?
I got a sandwich, set off up the motorway and took over twenty minutes to travel two miles. The traffic wasn't actually at a standstill, but was crawling oh-so-slowly. And after two miles of single-digit speeds the traffic then sped up to its usual pace with seemingly no reason for the delay at all. I had planned a little geo-mission to give me something to do before work, but the time I'd set aside for geo-mission was more than taken up by the traffic delay. So I went straight to work where I learned something.
Did you know that modern driving licences are only valid for ten years? I didn't know that. A colleague found out today that her driving licence expires next Monday. (Woops!) Suitably panic-stricken I checked my driving licence. Mine is good for another twelve years (until my seventieth birthday). The colleague whose licence expires on Monday had a good laugh at my driving licence; it was issued before she was born.
I felt old…
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