29 January 2023 (Sunday) - Early Shift; Feeling Grim

I felt like death warmed up as I heaved my carcass out of its pit this morning. Having had a couple of rather good days off I wasn't keen on going to work today. It has to be said that I have been far happier in my job over these last few years than I have been for the previous thirty-five, but I'd still rather get the wages without actually doing any work.
 
I "did" the puppies, and as they snuggled up to “er indoors TM on the big bed (they love it) I made toast and had a look at the Internet. Yesterday I mentioned that I am getting an increasing amount of crackpot religion appearing on my Facebook feed. This morning in the targetted advertising that Facebook does I was presented with a job opportunity. Did I want to be a pioneer evangelist working of the Church Army in the Diocese of Gloucester? If I got the job I would be "pioneering activities that bring Christian hope and building worshipping communities (“fresh expressions of church”) amongst groups not normally touched by the church, and I would enable others to do so too. I would focus on young adults, particularly 18-35 years, and by extension their families, and particularly those with low incomes/low aspirations/low self-esteem". For  doing that for thirty seven and a half hours each week I would get twenty five thousand quid a year, and a pension if I stuck at it long enough. And before anyone shouts that heathens like me needn't apply, as part of the Church Army's corporate inclusivity, being a Christian isn't a requirement for the job - see page seventeen of the job pack. You don’t have to be a member of the religion you are professionally evangelising. Seriously?  
Back in the day when I was a steward in the Methodist church I and my fellow Sunbeams would have willingly done all this sort of thing for free. And we did.
Is this a sign of our times that even do-gooders have to be paid these days?
 
I rolled my eyes, and taking care not to wake anyone I set off to work. Being a Sunday the talk on the radio was of a religious nature... or was stark staring nonsense (depending on your personal perspective)
Someone or other was drivelling on about how in the Old Testament God told Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac. So without batting an eyelid Abraham made a start of getting on with it. In some narratives apparently Abraham wasn't entirely keen on the idea so he asked his son Isaac what he thought... and the idiot child said that if the voices in your head say to kill your own child, then you have to do it. In the story, on seeing that Abraham was quite prepared to murder his own son, God changed his mind and suggested he mutilate a sheep instead. Which was nice for Isaac, but not so nice for the poor sheep (who wasn't doing anyone any harm). The most amazing part of this was that this nonsensical bollox was presented as a somehow being good thing?
To think I used to believe every word of it...
I turned the radio off and sang along to "Ivor Biggun" songs  as I headed to Pembury.
 
I got to work and did that which I couldn't avoid doing. As I worked I had an occasional glance out of the window. This time last year I sat in the garden and shivered for an hour as part of the annual RSPB Birdwatch.  The idea is that you sit in the garden, record all the avian activity, and tell the RSPB. Last year after an hour in sub-zero temperatures I recorded one pigeon,  and no one from the RSPB (or anywhere else come to that) thanked me for my contribution to avian research. As I glanced out of the window today I didn't spot many birds... none at all to be precise. Perhaps the rain put them off?
 
With work done I drove home through the rain. I stopped off at Gouldhurst to have a look at the farm shop there; I had a plan of getting “er indoors TM a pressie. I had a look round, got studiously ignored by all the staff, and came straight out. They weren’t giving it away. Take for example the gin they were selling from a local distillery. The stuff was ten quid a bottle more expensive in the farm shop than what you’d pay at the distillery.
 
I got home and found “er indoors TM having a “Bake Off” moment. She’d made some chocolate buns. Very nice. I scoffed one, then had a little doze with the dogs. Actually quite a big doze with the dogs. I probably needed the sleep.
 
“er indoors TM boiled up dinner which we scoffed whilst watching more of “Lego Masters: Australia”, and I slobbed in front on the telly some more. I’m feeling rather washed out… I’ve felt rough most of the day. perhaps another early night might be a plan?

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