13 November 2023 (Monday) - Feeling Rather Tired

I woke feeling full of energy and raring to go only to find it was twenty past two. I then dozed on and off not getting more than ten minutes continuous sleep for the rest of the night. I gave up, got up, made toast and watched something Matt had recommended to me. "Silo" isn't a new concept. A gaggle of people find themselves in an underground bunker; terrified of what might be outside. Eventually someone wants to go have a look. The first episode seemed watchable.
Taking care not to wake anyone I set off through a damp morning to find my car. Eventually I found it two streets away. I had a quick Munzee session round the town centre, then set off up the motorway to work. As I drove the pundits on the radio were talking about the violence in central London at the cenotaph on Saturday. It was claimed that the (ex) Home Secretary egged on the far right wing groups responsible. Did she? Possibly. She's got the sack for it anyway, and it the ensuing cabinet reshuffle ex Prime Minister David Cameron has returned to the front bench as Foreign Secretary. He was one of the better Prime Ministers of recent years; mind you it has to be said he hasn't had much competition. To be honest I thought he'd jacked politics in after the Brexit debacle. It turns out I was right. He had. He's not a Member of Parliament at all; he's been given a life peerage so's he can return to government.
To my mind this opens a can of worms. Aren't there any Members of Parliament who can do the job? Not one out of over three hundred Conservative MPs? This is setting something of a precedent isn't it - appointing someone to do a job because all the elected candidates aren't up to it?
Apparently this happened all the time two centuries ago…
Needing petrol I popped to the Aylesford filling station where there was mayhem. Some huge lorry was at the front pump taking an age to fill up. The woman who had been in the car behind was marching round formally ordering people to back up so she could get her car out. When she bellowed to me to move I pointed out I couldn't reverse because there was a car tight behind my car, and asked if she couldn't wait a couple of minutes. She indignantly replied that she could not wait (clearly far too important a person to do that), and assured me she would move the car behind me.
Some people. eh?
Matters weren't helped by having half the petrol pumps cordoned off. It turned out that one of the tills was broken, and with only one till the cashier couldn't keep up with demand. Yesterday (apparently) traffic was queuing a hundred yards down the road as the poor till operative wasn't up to the job and the police had closed the place down.
Work was work; as the day went on I rather wilted. No sleep last night whilst still recovering form Friday’s night shift…
I came home. “er indoors TM boiled up fish and chips which we scoffed whilst watching “Richard Osman’s House of Games”. I do like that show, but it is spoiled by the contestants clapping themselves whenever they win a round. People clapping themselves is a pet hate of mine. I’m sure it is rarely (if ever) from conceit; people just join in the clapping. I wish they wouldn’t. It is such a silly trivial thing that boils my piss so much.
“er indoors TM has gone bowling. I shall watch more “silo.

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