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Hullo, Kids!
It’s Monday afternoon and for once, your hero (that would be me) is awake and relatively lively. This is largely down to my unexpectedly long weekend. I took Friday off, see. We had anticipated road works on the main road outside the Gin Palace that were scheduled to run over three nights from Wednesday last week, between 9pm and 5am the following morning for each of the three days. We both anticipated a ‘walking dead’ scenario owing to lack of sleep, but in the end, nothing happened. No doubt they will take the opportunity to dig holes in the road at some unannounced time instead.
Anyway, the upshot was that Furtle worked from home for two days on account of that would allow her to sleep in and work when rather more refreshed and I booked a provisional recovery day that I didn’t actually need for the reason it was booked.
In the end, however, I did take the day.
On Wednesday I developed the first signs of conjunctivitis on my left eye and by Thursday it was hard to see out of at work. At the same time I was feeling miserably tired, which was odd since I seem to recall sleeping well enough. Anyway, come Friday, the eye was worse, I slept until about 11.30, the buses had gone on strike and I had a routine doctor’s appointment in the afternoon. So, I thought ‘sod it’ and took the day as leave and just rested.
Seems to have done the trick; just one of those things, I guess. I have managed to wear myself down on occasion in the past and I reckon this was just the latest example. All is tickety boo now, though I must remember to go to bed a little earlier in future; I’m not the spring chicken I once was and five hours a night sleep is probably too little these days.
However it came about, nice to see that it had no effect on my blood pressure, which was the point of the trip to the quack: it’s normal and this makes the third or fourth time in a row now, over a period of two to three years. So Hurrah, I say.
The only downside at the moment is that the weekend just gone was the last ‘normal’ weekend that we’ll have for a few months now, until after the Olympics and potentially the Paralympics. The results of Furtle’s volunteering to get involved are now in and unless the rota is changed at any point, she is working over every weekend between now and the beginning of September. Not whole weekends, but nonetheless weekends, and some of the days she will have off will; include sleep days after night shifts. Humpf. Luckily, if I do end up being able to work from home for chunks of the games period, I shall actually see her for longer periods than the odd couple of hours here and there as our working days synchronise for brief periods.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Never Volunteer For Anything.
I’m off to Shropshire this weekend for a family wedding. This will be the first time I have seen any of my relatives since I got married and I shall be flying solo: apart from the ring on my left hand, there will be no particular evidence beyond hearsay that I am married.
Still, c’est la vie, I suppose.
It’s Monday afternoon and for once, your hero (that would be me) is awake and relatively lively. This is largely down to my unexpectedly long weekend. I took Friday off, see. We had anticipated road works on the main road outside the Gin Palace that were scheduled to run over three nights from Wednesday last week, between 9pm and 5am the following morning for each of the three days. We both anticipated a ‘walking dead’ scenario owing to lack of sleep, but in the end, nothing happened. No doubt they will take the opportunity to dig holes in the road at some unannounced time instead.
Anyway, the upshot was that Furtle worked from home for two days on account of that would allow her to sleep in and work when rather more refreshed and I booked a provisional recovery day that I didn’t actually need for the reason it was booked.
In the end, however, I did take the day.
On Wednesday I developed the first signs of conjunctivitis on my left eye and by Thursday it was hard to see out of at work. At the same time I was feeling miserably tired, which was odd since I seem to recall sleeping well enough. Anyway, come Friday, the eye was worse, I slept until about 11.30, the buses had gone on strike and I had a routine doctor’s appointment in the afternoon. So, I thought ‘sod it’ and took the day as leave and just rested.
Seems to have done the trick; just one of those things, I guess. I have managed to wear myself down on occasion in the past and I reckon this was just the latest example. All is tickety boo now, though I must remember to go to bed a little earlier in future; I’m not the spring chicken I once was and five hours a night sleep is probably too little these days.
However it came about, nice to see that it had no effect on my blood pressure, which was the point of the trip to the quack: it’s normal and this makes the third or fourth time in a row now, over a period of two to three years. So Hurrah, I say.
The only downside at the moment is that the weekend just gone was the last ‘normal’ weekend that we’ll have for a few months now, until after the Olympics and potentially the Paralympics. The results of Furtle’s volunteering to get involved are now in and unless the rota is changed at any point, she is working over every weekend between now and the beginning of September. Not whole weekends, but nonetheless weekends, and some of the days she will have off will; include sleep days after night shifts. Humpf. Luckily, if I do end up being able to work from home for chunks of the games period, I shall actually see her for longer periods than the odd couple of hours here and there as our working days synchronise for brief periods.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Never Volunteer For Anything.
I’m off to Shropshire this weekend for a family wedding. This will be the first time I have seen any of my relatives since I got married and I shall be flying solo: apart from the ring on my left hand, there will be no particular evidence beyond hearsay that I am married.
Still, c’est la vie, I suppose.