I slept like a log for five whole hours, then went to the
loo and spent the rest of the night coughing. Last night I’d been messaging
with one of the bosses who’d suggested I pull a sickie today, and overnight
another of the bosses messaged to say that the rules say that I have to be off
sick for five days after testing positive for the rona. Which meant I couldn’t
go into work today anyway. I can go in as planned on Friday… if I’m feeling
well enough. Will I be? I thought I was chirping up yesterday but clearly I
wasn’t.
I’m assuming “er indoors TM” has
the same disease. She went down with it last Wednesday and seems to be on the
mend so maybe I’ll be in to work on Friday. We shall see.
I made toast and had a look at the Internet as I do. For
the last two weeks we were away with a group of decent people. Living in close
proximity for pretty much the entire time that we weren’t asleep, there wasn’t
a single word of argument or disagreement. People can get along if they try.
However look at the Internet this morning. People were bitterly arguing about
the time signal pips which go off every hour on Radio Four. Can you think of
anything more trivial about which to bicker?
And then my lap-top suggested that I might like to use a
proper official branded power cable from the supplier. What was that all about?
It’s been quite happy with the power cable it came with up till now.
I then phoned the bank. Having had a look at my accounts
the other day I saw I had been charged interest on my credit card. Not much. A
piddling amount really. But having paid off the account in full every month
there shouldn’t have been any interest at all.
Apparently I was charged interest because I’d bought all
those dollars in August, and you have to pay interest when you get cash on your
credit card. And they charge interest for a few months afterwards even if you
pay off the balance in full. Or so I was told.
I explained to the chap in a slow and patient way that
having sent me hundred dollar bills (which were no use to me) I had to
waste half a day finding anywhere that could change them. And then the bank had
the audacity to bill me for that. I’ve whinged about my bank before. They are
very good at saying sorry… but having asked friends I’ve formed the distinct
impression that the banks are all the same.
Being very aware of the dogs looking hopefully at me and
finding myself going stir crazy sitting on the sofa I thought I might relieve
the boredom by taking the dogs for a walk. We only went round the block; a very
short walk. I then fixed the power to the shed (a fuse had blown), fed
the dogs and did a little washing up. That was all. And I was dripping sweat,
breathless and all-in.
I went back to the sofa.
I wrote up a little CPD (after
all I’m not on holiday any more), and then saw I had another dubious friend request on
Facebook. On her Facebook page Raven tells the world she is a “professional
dominate mistress”.
Facebook does give me a lot – unlimited photo storage,
instant access to what friends, colleagues and acquaintances are up to all over
the world… but it isn’t perfect. It will immediately veto any post containing
words it doesn’t like (try posting the word t-w-a-t and see what happens!),
but you can ask for a review of an advert of a prostitute’s unmoral services
only to be told that advertising porn doesn’t breach their community standards.
As I fought with a geo-puzzle so the doorbell rang.
My Lego advent calendar had arrived. Every year since 2010 I’ve out a little advent adventure on
Facebook. Every year I get the Lego advent calendar and make a
point of not opening it until December, and then only opening it one window at
a time. It isn’t me that makes up the adventures I write; it really is the
strange voices in my head, and (quite frankly) no one is more amazed
than me with what I come up with. I really should open the advent calendar now
and work out the story in advance, but I’m not going to.
Still feeling grim I got the ironing board out and attacked
the ironing whilst watching episodes of “Four in a Bed”. This afternoon’s
episodes featured an opinionated idiot who would not shut up about healthy
living and the quality of food (claiming to be a trained chef). However
the breakfasts he offered consisted of a shop-bought yogurt and a banana, and
he wasn’t at all happy to be caught chain smoking, and on questioning he
admitted that he’d had no formal training as a chef but was entirely
self-taught. He went on to take serious offence that he was being judged
against others who were far better at what they did than he was at what he did.
He felt he should be judged for what he did in isolation and consequently
bearing in mind that he does exactly what he claims to do, he felt he should
have scored full marks on everything
Despite the rain “er indoors TM” went
off to this evening’s geo-meet. I would have liked to have gone along but
bearing in mind I was off sick and a walk round the block had worm me out
earlier I thought better of it.
I slobbed in front of the telly under dogs until she came
home. She came home with fish and chips.
They ain’t cheap these days…
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