I did have an early night last night; I was all in at ten
o’clock. Sadly two excited little dogs woke me when then came to bed at quarter
past one. I lay awake in desperate need of a tiddle for half an hour before
finally giving up and going for that tiddle, then took another half-hour to
warm up again. Just as I was nodding off my stomach rumbled and I sprinted to
the loo when I unleashed what I can only describe as an Uzbekistan-class dose
of the two bob bits.
At half past three I realized that sleep wasn’t going to
happen so I made toast and watched the Christmas episode of “Brassic”
which was rather good.
I sparked up my lap-to pat five o’clock and spent ten
minutes fighting with the goat sanctuary’s website. Over the last couple of
weeks they’ve taken on twenty-seven more goats and things are rather stretched
for them. I gave them a bung – if any of my loyal readers could spare them
anything it would be much appreciated. Click here if you can.
As I was about to go out I asked the Alexa for the weather
forecast for the morning. It told me it was five degrees outside. That was
wrong, bearing in mind how much ice I had to scrape from the car. I soon gave
up scraping and went back inside for a bottle of cold water. That shifts the
ice so much quicker.
I went to the co-op to get a sandwich, and shivered outside
waiting for them to open. There was some woman inside that I'd not seen there
before. She busied around whilst watching me standing outside. She made no
effort to unlock the door so after a few minutes I gave up waiting and drove up
to Sainsburys instead where I got my stuff. I got a tad hacked off with the
staff there as well. With no manned tills open we were forced to use the
self-service checkouts. Having refused
to open the proper till, the staff then simply refused to leave the customers
alone and kept trying to interfere with what we were doing. Rather than having staff busying round
getting in the way at the self-service checkouts, why don't they have these
people working the proper tills?
As I drove to and fro the pundits on the radio were talking
about the overnight resignation of the transport minister. Details were rather
sketchy; it seemed that she had a criminal conviction from ten
years ago but no one seemed to know much about it. Apparently there was some
story about her claiming to have been mugged and having had a phone stolen, and
then her withdrawing the claim of having been mugged and the phone
re-appearing. It was alleged that her employer at the time said that this
wasn't the first time a phone of hers had gone walkabout. The implication was
that she was nicking work phones. Was she? Somehow I doubt it, but the media
will say any old tosh to get a story, won't they?
I got to work where I immediately had a sudden reprise of
the night's unpleasantness and showed the works chodbin who was in charge. And
then I cracked on with that which I couldn't avoid… in between hurried trips
back to the chodbin.
I clenched for the journey home. Having spent ten days in
Uzbekistan where the closest functional toilet (as opposed to a hole in the
ground) was fifty miles away, the trip home was a walk in the park.
Once home I spent a little while messaging “Daddies’
Little Angel TM” whilst watching more “Downton Abbey”.
Lady Edith is looking set to get more than she bargained for from the editor,
and Edna got the sack for trying it on with Mr Tom .
“er indoors TM” boiled up a very
good dinner, and one I’d scoffed it I promptly fell asleep on the sofa until my
guts rumbled again.
I think I’d better nip to the loo…
No comments:
Post a Comment