A fragmented Friday
Feeling a little better, knowing mum has had her operation now. Still not very good at concentrating. Took a sack of old clothes to the Alzheimer's charity shop. The volunteer inside merely grunted rudely as I dropped them off, and I had to choke back the urge to say "forgotten how to say thank you?"
Then more swimming which is very relaxing. And then more filing and going through the dozens of unopened letters I've accumulated. Only one of them required any action at all. Finally got a pay slip from my old agency. They still owe me money. One of the few downsides of working for myself is having to chase payments.
Listening to gloomy news politically as I did so. Labour has taken a massive spanking in the local elections, and it appears Red Ken Livingstone, newt fancier and mayor of London is to be ousted by a gaffe prone, racist ("it is said the Queen has come to love the Commonwealth, partly because it supplies her with regular cheering crowds of flag-waving piccaninnies" see wikipedia for more) buffoon called Boris Johnson. Meanwhile Prime Minister Gordon Brown, after more than a decade of gloweringly undermining Tony Blair's premiership has proved himself plainly not up to the job himself. Labour need a miracle, and Britain's future, politically at least, looks bleak, unctuous and self-serving.
Putting aside political concerns, a nice afternoon. Popped up the hill and had a chat with Anna, belatedly dropping off Oskar's 2nd birthday present. Good gossip and catch up over a nice tea. Her plans for her own business are coming on strongly. I'm also feeling positive about my business too. But am also a bit frustrated at not being able to focus on much right now. I took a wrong turning in the last week or so on my Skelly story, and so have to go back, but at least I spotted it rather than charging ahead.
Then to an early evening gathering with Lorraine's neighbours. It is uncommonly neighbourly where she lives, and I chatted to some interesting folks including a poet called Peter, who has mainly written satirical poems, and chatting to L's pal Dawn again. This was followed by Lorraine and I hailing a cab and having an emergency Friday night curry and beer. Yum.
Feeling a little better, knowing mum has had her operation now. Still not very good at concentrating. Took a sack of old clothes to the Alzheimer's charity shop. The volunteer inside merely grunted rudely as I dropped them off, and I had to choke back the urge to say "forgotten how to say thank you?"
Then more swimming which is very relaxing. And then more filing and going through the dozens of unopened letters I've accumulated. Only one of them required any action at all. Finally got a pay slip from my old agency. They still owe me money. One of the few downsides of working for myself is having to chase payments.
Listening to gloomy news politically as I did so. Labour has taken a massive spanking in the local elections, and it appears Red Ken Livingstone, newt fancier and mayor of London is to be ousted by a gaffe prone, racist ("it is said the Queen has come to love the Commonwealth, partly because it supplies her with regular cheering crowds of flag-waving piccaninnies" see wikipedia for more) buffoon called Boris Johnson. Meanwhile Prime Minister Gordon Brown, after more than a decade of gloweringly undermining Tony Blair's premiership has proved himself plainly not up to the job himself. Labour need a miracle, and Britain's future, politically at least, looks bleak, unctuous and self-serving.
Putting aside political concerns, a nice afternoon. Popped up the hill and had a chat with Anna, belatedly dropping off Oskar's 2nd birthday present. Good gossip and catch up over a nice tea. Her plans for her own business are coming on strongly. I'm also feeling positive about my business too. But am also a bit frustrated at not being able to focus on much right now. I took a wrong turning in the last week or so on my Skelly story, and so have to go back, but at least I spotted it rather than charging ahead.
Then to an early evening gathering with Lorraine's neighbours. It is uncommonly neighbourly where she lives, and I chatted to some interesting folks including a poet called Peter, who has mainly written satirical poems, and chatting to L's pal Dawn again. This was followed by Lorraine and I hailing a cab and having an emergency Friday night curry and beer. Yum.
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