I had recently ignored some eye test that I am recommended to do as I was 0.001% over whatever random line is placed in the book for being diabetic and, despite since being a rather larger percentage under that same random line, I still get all the bumph from clinics and people that tends to do more to worry than cure me. As none of the locations were particularly local, unlike the last one that I did attend a year or so ago, and I am not supposed to drive myself back and the whole thing was worded as a recommendation rather than an instruction, I decided to give it a miss this year and maybe I'll do it next year if they come up with a more convenient venue too. So I had visions that it might be a reminder about that and I was preparing excuses as I went. Or maybe they were having another go at getting me to have a 'flu jab which I had also put off this year. Or, and this was the scary, one, was I actually in this group of people to be locked away for 12 weeks and provided with food and stuff?
It was none of these at all. In fact it was a Corgi collector who presumably had nothing better to do at this time of the morning. I can only guess that he had got used to getting up regularly get up for work at 6am or something and catch a train or bus at this kind of hour and so it seemed totally normal to speak to people at 7am. He just ploughed in with some questions about gold-plated Rover 2000s. I didn't mind too much as it was a relief that it wasn't someone in uniform about to curtail my freedom.
I did remind him that it was, er, quite early and wasn't he surprised to find me 'open' at this time and I think it did begin to dawn upon him that I might not have had breakfast, let alone find some clothes to wear. It was clear that he had seen Boris's announcement last night and simply felt that he needed to occupy himself with something as an alternative to the commute to which his brain and body seemed to have become accustomed. I can imagine that there will be many people waking up this morning and wondering just what the hell they will do and all the autopilot things that their brain is attempting to suggest to their arms and legs are being interrupted by the new input.
So that was a strange start to the day but I was quite impressed by my ability to string the words together in approximately the correct order to make complete sentences in answering the caller's questions. I could make a massive profit on a gold-plated Rover 2000 if I were able to find one for him but they are really few and far between so it's unlikely but nice to be asked.
It seems to be a morning for people getting up very early, or, at least early by my standards. My friend Adrian had been having trouble with his email but announced at sometime around 6:30am that all was well after all. The earliest, though, was Charlie Clarricoates who runs Charlie's Dog Training Centre in Soham. He was up when the time began with a 5! Charlie has trouble with some technology but finds text easy and there was a long message about putting some videos on his web site. It seems that, whilst I don't have to fix Adrian's email today, I will have quite a bit to keep me occupied with Charlie's videos.
Although sales are not exactly in the same league as that of the £1500+ Rover 2000, I have had a steady flow over the last week or two and no obvious signs of marked change yet. My last two sales, in fact, were to two of the most badly affected towns, Bergamo and Madrid. I was a little concerned that the new rules to keep us in our homes might not permit trips to the Post Office but I believe I will be able to do that and, as it happens, the Greens Norton Post Office is also a food store so I could buy some essentials too.
On my visit to the Post Office yesterday the lady behind me was standing so far away I was having serious doubts about my appearance or maybe I had been wearing the same jumper for too long. I mean, she was at the opposite end of one of the aisles which was more like 20 metres than 2. She was, however, of a certain vintage and may well never had had to deal with such things as metres before. She probably thought it was something like a rod or furlong, one of those measurement units that were always printed on the back page of exercise books.
It is now 10am. I need to get on with work.
No comments:
Post a Comment