I slept well. I made toast, took another antibiotic
and had a look at the Internet. It was still there. Someone had posted to one
of the local Facebook groups saying that people asking for employment were more
likely to get it if they used their own names when asking rather than some
silly Facebook-generated nickname. It speaks volumes about the potential
applicants that this needs to be pointed out.
I saw that there is to be a protest this weekend at the RNLI HQ
protesting about lifeboats being used to save the lives of asylum seekers.
There was one of those in Hastings a few years ago when some activists arranged
to prevent the lifeboat being launched… and then a few months later the same
sheep who’d blocked the lifeboat turned up to fundraisers to help those same
asylum seekers… apparently rent-a-mob went along to wherever they saw the
masses were being directed that week without a thought for what they were
actually supporting.
And there were rumours about the derelict Odeon in
Ashford to be refurbished, and endless suggestion about how they might do it
and what they might do with it… with no-one having any idea who “they”
might be.
These people are allowed to vote and do jury service,
you know.
I sent out birthday wishes to two people with whom I
used to work ten years ago. One was something of a religious nut. The other was
something of a worry. One day he announced that he’d got a job in Southampton
and said that he was looking at moving companies as he didn’t drive. I offered
to drive a van…
We had a good day moving him, but I can
remember loading up the van. It was just him and some bloke from work (me).
I assumed all his mates would be at the other end to help with the unloading.
We got to Southampton where there wasn’t anyone. Just me and him. I can also
remember being very reluctant to leave him; he seemed happy enough but there
was something rather sad about leaving him on his own. But twelve years later
he’s still there, and seemingly happy enough.
I Munzed, Wordled from “drive” to “vegan”,
then looked at the geo-map. Geocaching HQ had announced the requirements for
the next load of Treasures which will go live next week. I had a look at the
map and planned a couple of little geo-expeditions. I had a go at some puzzles
on chess dot com, then amazed myself by beating a bot before writing
up some CPD.
I didn’t take the hounds out this morning. It was wet
and I didn’t have time to get to Kings Wood and back, and then bath the dogs
before work. Over the summer we’d go to Orlestone, but that would have been an
epic swamp today.
I thought about chasing a First to Find… a
new geocache went live four days ago and no one had been to find
it. The problem was that this one was in Whitstable, and working in Pembury
today would have meant driving twenty miles in exactly the wrong direction
before I even considered heading to work.
The dogs got rather excited as I got ready for work.
They thought they were coming out with me. Sadly for all of us, they
weren't.
I drove round to the petrol station to refuel. As I
came out I mumbled and muttered. The right turn to the motorway was blocked up
and I had to go the long way round. It was as well that I did; three quarters
of the way round I remembered I didn't need to go up the motorway today. Had
there been no obstruction I would have been well on my way to Maidstone before
I'd remembered.
I'd also forgotten to get lunch so I popped into the
little shop in Sissinghurst. The place had three or four young mothers (with
their children screaming in the cars outside) doing their shopping. All in
their pyjamas complete with fluffy slippers. Why do people go shopping in their
pyjamas?
I stopped off in Goudhurst as a few years ago I'd
hidden a geocache there. I'd had reports that it had gone missing; it had. It
didn't take *that* long for me to replace it. To be honest the
people whinging that it had gone missing could have replaced it in less time
than it took for them to whinge about it, but there it is.
And fuelled with geo-enthusiasm I stopped off in
Pembury to log a find on a geocache that had been almost (but not quite)
buried by the post box.
I went in to the late shift. I rather dread late
shifts in a hospital which is a dedicated trauma centre. You'd think after all
these years I would be a bit more used to the excitement, wouldn't you? Work
could have been worse, but I got quite a bit of stick about what if the
squirrel that bit me on Monday had been radioactive; I would now be the
superhero "Squirrel Man", but what my special powers might be
would seem to be anyone's guess... and there were a lot of guesses being made…
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