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7 May 2023 (Sunday) - Early Shift

“er indoors TM took Darcie Waa Waa TM to the attic room last night as that is where the cot is set up. The dogs all went with her and I thought I might have a peaceful night. What a silly thought.
Treacle came down after an hour or so, jumped on my bed, shoved me over and made herself comfortable. And just as I nodded off again so she got up, stomped all over me, and went back upstairs. A little while later another dog (presumably Bailey) came down, cried pathetically until I got up to see what they wanted, and then went back to upstairs bed again.
And so it continued.
 
I got up early, made toast and had a little look at the Internet. There were quite a few people grumbling about the cost of yesterday's coronation. I must admit that I wasn't overly impressed with it, but it goes with the territory of having a Royal Family,  and all the time the Royals contribute more to the national economy than they take I don't see anyone really has too much grounds for complaint.
No one had a birthday for me to send out birthday wishes, pretty much everyone seemed to have forgotten about the elections of three days ago, and with nothing else happening in the world and everyone asleep I set off to work.
And then came back for my wallet.
 
With a few minutes spare I drove into the town centre to cap some Points of Interest for the Munzee Clan War, and just as I was about to head off up the motorway I remembered I hadn't got my works pass card. So I went home again.
There was some dull farming thing on the radio this morning. Dull. So as I cruise-controlled up the motorway I sang along to Ivor Biggun. I was back at Maidstone today; a much easier journey. Even if even more of the motorway has been cordoned off for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Is it hopelessly naive of me to feel that if the Highways Authority aren't ready to do whatever work they want to do, then they shouldn't close the motorway until  they are ready.
Just as I came off the motorway so the low petrol alarm came on. There is something odd with my car's fuel usage. When I got it, it would do just over five hundred miles on a full tank of petrol. After  the car fix-it people had it to repair the crash damage last year it would only do four hundred miles on a full tank of patrol. But just recently that distance is creeping up again. This morning the petrol alarm sounded after four hundred and eighty miles since last refuelling. I wonder what that's all about?
Like the rest of the world, the petrol station was surprisingly busy so early on the Sunday of a Bank Holiday weekend
 
Work was work; surprisingly busy for a bonus Bank Holiday, buut an early start made for an early escape, and I spent much of the evening quietly soaking up ale. And rum. And gin.
 
We watched the last episode of “Celebrity Hunted” hunted this evening. The second to last to be caught rather gave the game away. Had she kept her trap shut then the hunters wouldn’t have known were to go hunting.
I feel rather tired…


 

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