I just tried to tax my car for the coming year. I entered the 16 digit code the Government has thoughtfully provided, ticked a variety of boxes and prepared to pay…
And then the page refused to load.
I just tried it a third time and it worked. I am now feeling virtuous after doing something in plenty of time. Normally I put the letter to one side and worry about it when I can’t find it just after the deadline.
That’s what I seem to have done with the letter from the hospital. I have an appointment at the Treatment Centre either this Wednesday or next Wednesday, but I can’t remember which and I am going to have panic-fuelled search for the letter tomorrow.
My new resolutions are erratic at best.
As a sidelight on lockdown, I had a strange social situation today. A customer came into the shop wearing a mask. He asked if we had some things, which we didn’t, and I pushed my chair back to talk to him from the back office, as he was asking about medals and militaria, which is my area.
“Hello Simon,” he said.”I didn’t realise you worked here.”
I hadn’t a clue who he was, though he obviously knew me. From the warmth of the greeting I guessed we weren’t just passing acquaintances either. It’s very difficult when you have to identify a bald middle-aged man in a mask. There isn’t a lot to go on. I’d last seen him two years ago in another shop, and before that it had been fifteen years since I saw him and his infant son eating Sunday lunch in the café at Sainsburys. Neither of us, it has to be said, is very good at keeping in touch.
Fortunately his twinkling eyes gave the game away, but for a moment it was a touch tricky. If he had not had distinctive eyes I would have had to ask who he was.
This happens more and more – older versions of people I used to know keep cropping up.