The phone on my desk is blinking at me balefully. There are two orange lights that I cannot get rid of; telling me that there is at least one message waiting on voicemail. Except that I cannot access my voicemail. It is busy. Quite why my, or anyone else’s voicemail should be busy, I have no idea. Even the direct dial work-around is busy. The phones have not been the same since they were
upgraded’ and that pretty much is the story of life around here.
I feel a bit hot and bothered at the moment. I nipped out at lunchtime to buy stamps and post some Christmas cards. Unlike ten years ago, when Victoria was awash with post offices, I had to wander off to
Broadway where there is an oddly architectured place that looks like 1930s a strange meld of Art Deco-Stalinist Brutalism. I have traditionally disliked using that branch because it is so busy, but it turns out that they have machines that will sell stamps for anywhere in the world, so I managed to do what I wanted, with a relatively short wait.
Walking there, I was wrapped up against the sudden onslaught of winter, which seemed to have got damper, rather than colder. On the way back, however, it had reverted and I was liberally sprinkled with fine snow flakes by the time I got back to the office. I was also rather hot under my coat, which made it uncomfortable – too cold and damp to do without the coat, too mild to be comfortable with it! Thank God I haven’t been wearing my jacket, too!
Text messages from
ellefurtle suggested relatively heavy snow in the Whetstone area that was sticking, but later updates say that it has switched to rain, which is annoying. Maybe over night…
I have finally managed to get hold of my messages. One may not be for me, after all that and the other is from someone calling himself
Richard Beckinsale, which sounds almost as if it could be a wind-up. I bet he gets that all the time.