"for the happy, the sad, I don't want to be, another page in your diary"

Friday, 20 July 2018

Complex Matters


L is the one in London on Monday so I get to walk the dogs. Their walk is followed by rice and poppadum for breakfast. Yes we had a takeaway last night.

She is back in work on Tuesday but twiddling her thumbs because of an IT problem. It keeps rejecting her because her passwords aren't complex enough. That is, of course, the modern trend of insisting on passwords so complicated that no one can ever remember them so everyone has to write them down. Therefore breaking into someone’s computer is now usually a simple matter of reading through their post-it notes.

I bike on Tuesday and Thursday, in between I have a meeting with Guernsey Council on Wednesday about a new computer system. Unfortunately this is on neutral ground in Birmingham, so I don’t get to visit. It also means I’m back in time for dog training.

By Thursday, L’s password problem seems resolved but judging by her first message of the day ‘Let's run away together’ she’s still not having the best of days at work. One minute she’s vowing to be AF before the Thunder Run, the next she’s asking for a G&T to dip her chocolate in. Sounds nice though.

Tennis is on hold for a month. The centre is shut this week for a wheelchair tournament, it’s my club’s dog show next week and then we’re on holiday in Scotland for two weeks.

I get the bus to work on Friday. Figuring that I’ll save some energy for my one lap of the Thunder Run course. L suggests other, more controversial, energy saving measures that might extract two laps out of me. I’m not convinced, it’s Friday after all.

L seems positively upbeat about the upcoming weekend, she’s got the hours counted down. 26 hours to the start. 50 hours to retirement.

Then suddenly, strange wet droplets start falling out of the sky. What is this strange phenomena? Could it be that long forgotten thing called rain?

(Friday 20th July)

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