Again I woke up silly early. I always do when I have an
alarm set. I lay wide awake for half an hour totally failing to get back to
sleep either despite of because of all the snoring going on around me.
I got up and made brekkie which I scoffed whilst watching
an episode of "Shameless" in which our heroes mistakenly
killed a priest, and tried to dispose of the body in a sausage-making factory.
Perhaps not the best place to dispose of the carcass, but if anyone else has
any better suggestions as to what to do with a dead priest, don't tell me, tell
the cast of "Shameless".
I set the dishwasher going and set off for work. A new
geocache had gone live yesterday in Godinton. Someone had tried to find it
yesterday and failed. I thought about having a look but Godinton was just a
little too far out of my way this morning. Instead I went on a little Munzee
mission on the way to work, as I can Munz quicker than I can hunt Tupperware.
Or that is I used to be able to Munz quicker than I could
hunt Tupperware. After a three-day IT update the only difference to the Munzee
game is that it now runs very much slower. Incredibly slower. I shouldn't be
surprised though. Isn't this the case with every single IT upgrade? No matter
what is being upgraded, there is no doubt that what happens behind the scenes
is a wonder of science. But whatever the upgrade is, it leaves that which has
been upgraded slightly less able to do the task for which it has been designed
than it had been before.
As I drove and tried to Munz I listened to the radio. As
Hawaii recovers from the fires
that have run wild, there is now a mad rush to assign blame.
Back in the day we had "act of nature" and
"these things happen". Nowadays we look for a scapegoat.
And our old friend science has discovered
a sea monster. Wow - I was rather impressed... until I found out that this
so-called "monster" is about eight inches long.
I turned off the radio and sang along to quality tunes as I
drove to work. I stopped off at the little shop in Sissinghurst as they sell
rather good steak & stilton pasties. Usually there's a little old lady
behind the till, but this morning was a rather (incredibly) smelly
surly-looking bloke. I really did hurry out of the shop holding my breath.
What's the etiquette for dealing with a rancid shopkeeper? Do you say "Jeez,
what a ronk?". I can't help but think that by maintaining a typical
British reserve I've done no favours to those shoppers to come after me.
Work was work... I did my bit for twelve hours whilst looking
out the window at a beautiful day.
There's no denying that I had a serious sulk. Dog Club is usually good
fun and I wasn't happy to be missing it, or to be missing the mystery year
contest on the radio either. But due to various catastrophes there was no one
with whom I could swap.
And having left for work twenty minutes after sunrise, I
left work twenty minutes before sunset. I’ve not done a twelve hour shift for
some time.
I could have driven home listening to the radio. But a load
of drivel about Madonna didn't appeal to me, and a radio play from 1969
featuring Wendy Craig appealed even less, so I sang along to Ivor Biggun as I
drove home through the -hursts and the -dens.
I
got home to mayhem. “Darcie Waa Waa TM” had come for a
sleepover. Having turned her nose up at chicken nuggets she spent a bit of time
dog-snogging then trashed the living room and filled her nappy.
“er
indoors TM” is currently trying to settle her. I’ve wished her luck,
and am keeping well out of the way.
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