The day started with me waking early and leaping from my bed, full of joy and ready for action. I’m not sure why, and I should have suspected it was too good to be true.
Breakfast was good – cold sausage sandwiches with brown sauce. Not to everyone’s taste, I know, but I like them.
The journey to work was fair and I managed to park outside the shop, though some idiot had parked so badly they had managed to use two spaces. I’ll skate over the next few hours. The shop was hot and airless, we’re having a few problems on eBay and I have a co-worker with the acquisitive habits of a pack rat. If I put anything down on the desk – pen, tape, ruler, stamps or scissors – it mysteriously disappears and reappears in his work space. It’s an annoyingly inefficient way of working.
This all paled into insignificance after the horror that was “doing the laundry”. I managed to get out of doing it yesterday but Julia cornered me tonight and we ended up in the launderette. It was hot. Someone had three driers going. And the woman who looks after it came in halfway through kept moving us so she could clean.
This was bad enough, but when we started to unload the machine at the end we found we’d ruined two of my pens by putting them through the hot wash.
I was devastated. They cost me 99p each. However, I’m a happy-go-lucky sort of bloke and am trying not to let it upset me too much.
Julia, on the other hand, is taking it quite badly.
It seems that black spots on white work blouses and brown linen tops are Bad Things. Very Bad Things.
I am not popular.
I’ve used a picture of Tim Hunkin’s dog from Southwold Pier – if he had a house we’d be sharing it tonight.