I was downstairs for 6.35 this morning because I woke up before the alarm and didn’t thick it was worthwhile going back to bed for 20 minutes. It’s now 6.45 and I have spent ten minutes watching the blue circle revolve on my computer screen and checking emails. This is where my time goes.
The sky is bright, but lacks notable features, the air is coolish and the birds are quiet. I have missed the nice bit of early morning and just ended up with the dull bits. In a few minutes, having blogged about nothing other than the time, I will pop down to hospital, have my arm perforated and compose an imaginary letter to the Anti-coagulant Service explaining that I have better things to do than have a blood test every week. It is imaginary because it will have the same effect as writing one (ie none) but will save the effort of actually writing about it and enduring their response. There is something about the Anti-coagulant Service that drives me mad. It’s partly their assumption that I have nothing better to do than have blood tests and partly their view that Warfarin is the only Anti-Coagulant. I’ve actually had a conversation with a nurse where she used the word Warfarin in place of Anti-Coagulant.
At this point I will say no more, as I can get very cutting on the subject.
Time to go now, and see if I can get a parking space. If I do, all will be good. If I don’t, I will add to the parking problem by finding an awkward and unauthorised place to put my car.
That’s another subject Itry to avoid.
Has my life really become a series of gripes about small things? At one time I thought it would be about such interesting stuff, but this doesn’t seem to be the case. Even my blog is merely about the time I get up.