This week started at… half past five in the morning, woo! I had to get up extra early, because I have no idea what it’s gonna be like out there – what if it all melts overnight, enough to flatten everything, only to freeze into a giant skating rink? When that happened last year, it took me twenty minutes to get home – from the bus-stop round the corner. Christ, if it’s that bad then I can hardly stomp to work, I’d better start keeping emergency Bus Change on me! As if my finances will stand for that.
So it was on with the new boots, and the thermals, and the gloves and those joggies that are vaguely waterproof looking. Corks, and I am transporting a terribly breakable china soap-dish for someone else, here! If I fall, it’s gubbed.
Ah bliss, it was still a snowy winter wonderland outside, and due to all the white ground I could see my way through the park. The new boots are rather like wearing diving boots, but at least I can power up snowy hills in them; the old ones, while faithful and well-loved, have indeed walked five hundred miles since June, and now tend to skid. The new ones have Grip. They do squeak like large and angry mice on hospital floors, however. Still, I arrived in good time, and my only gripe is that I don’t appear to own any music suitable for a silent and snowy trek. Something magnificent, yet profound, seems to be required, but all I have is Steven Tyler singing about shagging.
Work this week is going to be quiet, but also busy. For the next couple of days, I have no Cellmate; and no Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something, hurrah. She finally got her wish and got requisitioned to another hospital to help with their backlog, though it did take her phoning and phoning about it all last week (ever since my Cellmate reported that you get left unsupervised to do your best, in fact). Why won’t they return my calls if they want someone over there so badly? she kept asking. My Cellmate was also mystified. I… have my suspicions on that point.
So, the weather may be wintery, but the atmosphere should be nicer! And indeed, I walked through with the soap-dish into an argument between my Colleagues of Cakes and Skull Scarves. Shh, they said; This is very old and serious argument, it has raged for over a decade. Who is better: David Bowie or the Rolling Stones?
The soap dish is perfect, apparently, so I got repaid for it. Yay!
And even better, we get to go home early due to bad weather, hurrah! For once, this actually was early – last time, I got told I could knock off at four, which is… when I knock off. Thanks, boss!
On the walk home, the snow had dismayingly enough already turned to sheet ice in some places. Which I discovered at the top of the steep hill in the park, natch, and nearly went down the whole thing on my arse. Oh yeah, I am really going to slither six miles into town and back on foot tonight in all this. Of course, what are my chances of finding some working public transport? So I became part of the ‘Scotland, famed for its proximity to the Artic Circle, shuts down in a couple of inches of snow’ fiasco and made no unnecessary journeys as the radio advised. You’d think it was a volcano or something, honestly.
Also, I am becoming an exercise-free lardball, which just goes to show – around this time last year, my personal goal was, “Walk the four-mile round-trip to work, you exercise-free lardball, don’t take the bus!” Now that it’s nicely integrated into my life, I find I still consider myself to be an exercise-free lardball. Go figure.
I went home to fight the sums instead. I have printed things off the internet that say, it does not matter how I divvy up the rectangles, it will all come to the same total anyway. Let us see if this is correct!
… doesn’t look like it.
Right, let us have a shuftie ahead at Chapter Four: Theory of Bending (hee). I shall hum the Futurama theme song while doing this chapter. Or, I won’t, because I see my old arch-nemesis, I the second moment of area of section, has popped up already, and I still don’t know how to work him out.
At least I spent no money at all! Good Beshemoth! No wait, I need a coat for winter that isn’t full of holes. Oh the pain of being caught between two conflicting urges (traditional Scottish skinflintiness and not wanting to die of hypothermia).
In the end, I bought a coat off the internet. Bad Beshemoth! But, twenty quid including postage for a new winter coat isn’t too bad, right?
I do hope it fits.
So I survived the ‘travel chaos’ and the maths (I include currency, here) got me in the end after all. I gave up and spent the evening knitting, with a face-pack on and hair full of mayonnaise. (Look, I have a friend who swears by it, alright?) Maybe if I give in to the girlie, tomorrow I will get my groove back!