One of the consequences of shift work is the feeling of being out of sync with the world. After the ten days in a row I tend to feel very frazzled. And then I tend to cram a lot into the following four days off. So what has been so exciting that I’ve neglected writing this?
Well there is the saga of trying to get the company car serviced. I’ve tried on several occasions to get the car serviced. The last attempt was Thursday just gone. So the first time there was no availability with the particular garage that the hire company uses. The second attempt was done on a Saturday and the single individual from the hire car company wasn’t working, so couldn’t authorise the work. And the third attempt fell in it’s face when the garage chain the hire company uses lost my booking. So I’ve left it to the company that manages the company fleet to sort out. So far haven’t heard anything back. So I’ll make some enquiries on Friday.
On a much happier front, I got to meet up with one of my sisters on Saturday. We met up at a pub on the outskirts of Swindon and had a bloody good chat and a catch up. So that was a really nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon.
Other than that, my time off was spent in the usual manner of catching up on my sleep. Doing one or two domestic chores. And generally taking things easy. Shame the kid from next door but one is proving to be a troublesome teenager. Found two sheets of mirror glass smashed over the car park. No witnesses. All that indicates that it’s him, or at least that the debris originated from his property, is the fact that one the pieces of glass hit the tarmac end on and embedded a bit. So that gives a point of impact and then it’s just a case of looking at the spread of debris. Not a lot you can do really. I can’t legally brain the kid. the police won’t be interested. And the kids Mum, well she doesn’t want the 14 year old. So all I can think of doing is spending out £250 on a private security camera system and getting the relevant data protection act licence. But in all honesty I’d rather spend the £250 on something more fun. But do I want to continue cleaning his crap out of my car park? Oh the joys of dysfunctional teenagers.
Right, I’d better get a wiggle on. Work starts in a few minuets. I wonder where I’ll be sent today.