Make Up Your Damn Mind 2

It seems like a developing theme (although I don’t intend it to be so) but I’ve been noticing dodgy signage/labelling this week.

This one is at a local restaurant…

So - not all day every day then

So – not all day every day then

If you’re advertising a menu as “All day every day”, you can’t then qualify it as “up to 6pm on Friday and Saturday”, can you?

*sigh*


Make Up Your Damn Mind

While shopping this morning, I looked at “Glaceau Vitamin Water“. Not for any intention of buying, just out of interest (I got a promo thingy for it, so thought I’d look).

The labelling is….. interesting.

Zero or not?

Zero or not?

So… “Zero Calories”, but 100ml contains 1.5 calories, and 500ml contains 8calories.

All told, that makes it a pretty interesting interpretation of “zero”…


Overtaking – On the decline

Over the last few weeks of driving, I’ve been noticing more and more that other drivers seem to be quite averse to overtaking, even with miles of clear and visible road ahead.  I don’t quite know why it is – maybe it’s about how generally risk-averse we’re becoming – but it’s bloody annoying.

I do overtake – so long as it’s safe, and the road is clear. (That should go without saying, but still) But I now seem to be in the minority.

Of course, the irony is that when you’re then on a multi-carriageway road, every single one of those motherfuckers is sitting in the outside two lanes, overtaking fuck-all. But I digress.

The thing is, if you’re behind five or six – hell, even two or three – vehicles who aren’t overtaking whatever’s holding everyone up/back, then my own overtaking manoeuvre becomes difficult, if not impossible. So you just end up sitting there, because no-one else is prepared to do anything.

It’s an odd state of affairs – and sometimes bloody annoying. But there’s not a lot that you can do, except accept that it’s just going to be one of those days…


Month of Madness

This month is actually quite busy for me outside of work.

Last weekend, I ended up doing a daytrip to Somerset.

This coming weekend I’m in Edinburgh – I may have mentioned that before

The weekend after, I’m in Manchester.

The weekend after, I’m in London.

And then it’s May.

I’m not quite sure how that’s all happened, but it’s going to be fun.


Missing Limb

This morning I somehow managed to leave my phone at home. (Well, I hope it’s at home – otherwise I’ve done something really stupid with it)

It’s quite an odd feeling really – you only realise how much you use the damn thing when it’s not there. The ubiquity of a smartphone for simple things is suddenly noticeable.

Already today I’ve had several thoughts of “Oh, I’ll just get the phone and…”, followed by the realisation that I can’t.

Calling it a “missing limb” is a bit hyperbolic, but it’s definitely a feeling of something missing, something you’re used to having around that’s not there any more.

I’ll be fine – it’s not like I’m surgically attached or anything – but every so often something will jar, and I’ll think “Bollocks” again.

Let’s just hope the damn thing is at home.  I’m sure it is, but there’s that nagging ‘what if you did something dumb?‘ mental voice going on…


Changing Temperatures

One of my family traits is that we all run warm – I’m rarely cold, my dad was infamous for having gone into a new office, turned off the heating on his first day and not re-activating it for five years ’til he left. I don’t know why we’re like it, but we are.

At night I’d sleep outside the quilt for the most part, because I was too warm otherwise.

This last year though, I’ve noticed a change.

I bought a quilt with a slightly lesser tog – 10.5 instead of 13 – but now I tend to sleep under the quilt rather than around it, or outside it completely.

It’s not anything that’s got a point – just something odd, that I’ve noticed changing.


Sick Day

Following on from yesterday’s post, last night was vile. I won’t go into details – safe just to say it was bad.

Anyway, as a result of that, I took the decision that I’d take today as a sick day, as I wanted to visit the GP (among other things) and generally Not Do Much.   Which was a mistake.

The GP – as usual – was fucking useless.  Having waited 90 minutes to see the incompetent git, I was in the room for less than five minutes. I explained that I’d spent most of the night with an insanely sore throat – to the degree that I thought it might end up being tonsilitis – , and coughing up big green lumps. He checked my throat and decided that it wasn’t tonsilitis. Fair enough – I know fuck-all, so I bow to their supposed knowledge.  But at the same time, despite being told I’d coughed up a ton of crap, he still didn’t bother to check my chest at all – something you’d think would be pretty elementary.

And the final verdict? “Nothing I can do, take some paracetamol, and maybe Neurofen if you feel the need”. That was it. Useless shyster bastards.  (And yes, there’s another complaint in with the practice manager)

After that, I went back home, still feeling like shit – only also feeling annoyed. Never a good stage in the day.

Within half an hour, there was a crunch of noise outside, the sound of plastic and so on getting splattered down the road. It didn’t sound promising – and I had a nagging feeling…

Yep, a driver had managed to smash off the door mirror of my car – which was all parked up, in the same place it usually is.  Oh fuck.

In fairness, she’d stopped, and was seeing what had happened. I know any number of people wouldn’t have even slowed down, let alone made an effort. So you know, fair play on that score.  She was a very new driver, had misjudged the width of her car while another one was coming the other way, and smack.  It could’ve been so much worse – so, so much worse – and she was properly upset.

I spoke to my Saab garage, and got a price for the replacement mirror, and we exchanged details.  I showed them where I lived, and all was well.   A bit later, her dad came round – in a good way! – and we discussed it, that she was a new driver, and if we did this through insurance, it’d hit her very hard, for something that really wasn’t worth that much money.  I’m fine with that – I’m not going to penalise the poor girl for something, when she didn’t even have to stop – and I think it’ll all work out by people dealing with it as adults.

And so I’ve ended up, on my day at home and feeling crap, going over to the Saab garage, getting things sorted – and as it turned out, actually getting a replacement mirror far, far cheaper than I expected. Basically, they’d got a silver car that they were stripping for parts, and I got the mirror. The colour isn’t a precise match, but I don’t give a shit about that.

The full replacement should’ve cost £300, with labour etc. on top of that. The swapped part has cost me £100 including labour, and took less than an hour from start to finish.  I can’t deny, I’m pleased with that, and well chuffed with the garage – they’ve always been good with me, as has been shown by what they’ve done today.

 

It’s all worked out OK – but for a day doing nothing, it really hasn’t been all that successful…