Argh, Monday morning already! And I had to get up early to play with gallons of raw wine; just hope leaving the sterilising water in overnight wasn’t a really bad idea. And before I could play with it, I needed to do the dishes and clear the sink area, and have you ever tried pouring gallons of rosehips into a bag in a bucket with a time limit? I am amazed it went as well as it did. I do, however, probably smell like the proverbial brewery; how unfortunate.
Only about fifteen minutes late, however, and I can make that up later.
Everyone thinks Bawbag Bellend is really cute. Dammit.
Today, I felt weird. In fact, I felt awful. My temples were thumping, my sinuses felt like they were being rinsed out with chlorine, and there was a terrible smell of burning. Ooh, is the office on fire? Please god, I hope not – we ain’t had a fire drill or anything for this new place yet!
And apparently, we won’t have one. Lo, the fire officer told us that he had turned up to inspect the place when it first opened and was told to sling his hook; he had no jurisdiction here, thankyou. What? And I notice I am the only person who knows the quickest route to the stairs. In fact, several people who work in this corridor, and have done so for at least a month longer than I have, have told me they have no idea how to get to the stairs from here. This isn’t really any good!
But apparently, we are quite safe, because this building Cannot Burn Down. Hmm. One has heard that one before. Something about a big ship that couldn’t sink, if I remember correctly, only it did. And some buildings that Could Not Burn Down (but later, did).
On the bright side, the smell of burning is merely a side-effect of a head-cold. Ah yes, I am a colleague short and will be so for the next fortnight, so that’s no sick time unless I’m really dying, so of course I have a head-cold – it’s just like this time last year. For every season, turn turn turn etc. Well, that would explain why I was so unfeasibly hot and cold and knackered yesterday.
Methinks I should take it somewhat easier this week. Not at work, of course – no, I have to hoover up work off my colleagues, so that means I must work harder. And I have to get this loose filing that formerly belonged to an entirely different hospital filed, so I must work longer. And I think maybe ten hours’ flat-out panic plus a four-mile walk is all I feel up to!
No fighting; Bawbag Bellend must remain in my possession. I went home and had a ferociously early night. Bah.