I had something of a bad night last night. When “er indoors TM” stopped
snoring so the thunder and lightening started, and continued right up until the
snoring started again.
I gave up with sleep, came downstairs and saw that I’d
completely forgotten that I’d put a load of washing into the washing machine
last night. Ho hum… I hung that out, made brekkie and sparked up my lap-top.
This morning the thing worked far better than it ever had done. Up till
yesterday it seemed to be stuck in a vicious circle of notifications in which
some trivial thing would happen (someone clicked “Like” on a Facebook photo,
I’d had another email I never needed or wanted…) and it would give me a
notification about it. My phone would then give me the same notification as
would my watch. And then my lap-top would tell me that I had notifications on
my watch and phone. Depending on how chatty the technology was feeling I would
sometimes get up to half a dozen messages about things about which I couldn’t
care less. I had words with the lap-top last night, and this morning it had
seen the error of its ways. I got a lot less unnecessary notifications.
I had a look at my emails. I had a message. I’ve been
having issues with uploading stuff to my blog backup. The nice
people who run the web hosting are doing all sorts of wonderful IT things
behind the scenes; the practical upshot of which is that (like with every
single IT upgrade that has ever been done in all of history) the uploading
no longer actually worked.
Matters weren’t helped by the way that every time they
replied to my questions (of which there were several!) they would send
me an email to tell me that they’ve replied to my message in the message
centre, and I then had to fiddle about logging in to find out what they’d
actually said. They’d sent me several links to various help screens, none of
which looked like the ones in the diagrams they sent. After quite a bit of
to-ing and fro-ing it turned out that after the upgrade that they’d done, I
needed to upload to a different place and I needed a new login name to do so. Sadly
getting to that realization was rather painful.
I saw that an ELO tribute band had been playing
in Hastings last night. Had I not been diseased I might have gone along; I saw
they were still advertising tickets yesterday afternoon. A friend who went
along said the theatre was half-empty. I suppose mid-week isn’t perhaps the
most popular time to go out?
And a series of
geocaches had gone live on the Romney Marsh this morning. Last time I had the
rona I managed a cheeky First to Find. Might this become a thing? I’d seen that
people on-line were saying that they’d heard from friends that others had said
that their mates reckoned that the overnight storms had left many of the roads
to the Romney Marsh flooded, and those roads that weren’t flooded were blocked
by fallen trees. However no one was talking from first-hand experience, and
Google Maps showed the traffic was moving normally. So I zoomed down to the
marsh, pulled up by a road sign… and the heavens opened. I wasn’t put off by
the thought of rain as I keep a raincoat in the car. Or so I thought. I wonder
where that went?
After a few minutes the
rain passed. I soon had the cache in hand. First to Find. Go me. I decided to
leave the rest of the series for another time.
I came home, and seeing
the rain was still stopped I walked the dogs round the block, then had a five
minute pootle in the garden. And I then realised that a little drive out, a
walk round the block and five minutes in the garden had been too much for me. I
was knackered and sweating. Having decided I’d had quite enough slobbing about
feeling sorry for myself I’d made a bit of a plan for today. And I simply
wasn’t physically up to it.
I was rather pissed off
– the idea of a week’s sick leave is to have a bit of bonus holiday. It
certainly was the last time I had the rona. I’d rather have gone to work than
have been putting up with this. I sat on the sofa under a pile of dogs
sniffling and coughing and watched all of the remaining episode of “The Witcher”.
As I binge-watched my
phone beeped at me, and reminded me that seven years ago I went for an
interview at the Tunbridge Wells Hospital at Pembury. At the time I didn’t
think the interview went very well, but I got the job, and accepting the job
was one of my better decisions. As an example… On Monday when I go back to work
the bosses will ask me how I feel. And it will be with concern. And if I don’t
feel well enough I will take more sick leave… and won’t feel guilty for doing
so.
In my previous job when
I returned to work after sickness I was met by management with sarcasm and
passive-aggressive comments about how there had been nothing wrong with me. Once
after a bout of dire rear which had had me confined to the chodbin, and once after
surgery.
And that was in a place
which claimed to have a zero tolerance to bullying.
I should have changed jobs years ago
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