Wine and wibbles

Came to the conclusion last Saturday that it’s far better to get air cylinders refilled mid-week. Mid week, you can count your waiting time in minutes. On a Saturday, you have to count them in hours. Except that no one tells you that, and you’re kind of expected to stand guard over them until they get taken into the compressor room. So that was basically our Saturday.

Watched Dr Who in the evening, last in the series and supposed to be very tearful. I think Chris might have wibbled a bit.
Sunday, St Margaret’s Bay Dive and BBQ got cancelled. Cleaned house instead.

On Tuesday, one of my ladies went for a mammogram in the morning and got in a tizz because they called her back for another and a scan in the afternoon. At 2pm she was, understandably, panicking. At 5pm she was all good because all was in fact good, just a fatty lump, but they’d cocked up the first mammogram.

Boss man was sent to doghouse in disgrace by me, because he left Broadstairs office door wide open and with the keys in the lock overnight. These are premises belonging to a different organisation where we rent rooms. Hence I had to go to meet with boss lady in Broadstairs to collect keys and make peace. Spent a lovely hour sitting in the sun with said boss lady and her colleague drinking lemon tea and bitching about how useless men are when it comes to multi-tasking.

Discovered that Broadstairs is the ultimate stereotype of 4x4 school run comedy and danger. The Highway Code is clearly suspended for the location and duration. Marked rights of way are irrelevant; the bigger the vehicle, the righter it is to be in the way. Indicators are not required.

The four (or six) orange flashy lights on the vehicle corners is strictly for use when the vehicle is stopped in order to make it clear to other road users that the vehicle with all its orange lights flashing is not intending to move from whatever random spot it may be in (in the middle of the road, on the zebra crossing, on pavement or even all of the above in one case) until it switches flashy lights off. At which point, it will move in a random direction at a random speed. Reverse is the thing that makes the car behind move backwards; this is just for fun cuz it’s a power trip you know.

Boss man remained in doghouse.
Went to the flix with Mel to see Pirates of the Caribbean 2. It was good. Not quite as good as the first, but Jack (Johnny Depp) was slurpily terrific and Keira Knightly was very very good, especially when throwing strop on the beach. Orlando was okay, and it was a nice surprise to see some old favourites from the first film. Then last scene Jack is in could have been very wibbly, but the CGI was too much and it was just very silly. Maybe it was meant to be, but I just thought the pit of Sarlaac in Return of the Jedi was twenty-five years ago and much better done. I’m pretty sure Boba Fett would agree with that too.

Wednesday went to see the mad professor for eye check. Departed Ashford 0630 for 0830 appointment in Croydon. At 0815 in Purley, having made 50 yards progress in half an hour, discovered appointment was actually 0900. Arrived 0905. Left eye may need tweaking a little, but will have to wait until all healed and settled before deciding for sure. Left Croydon 10.00, arrived Ashford 10.50.

Thursday. Let boss man out of doghouse.
On Friday the girls came down, and we quickly worked our way through a bottle of wine each.

Saturday slightly hung over, however Designer Outlet was begging for our presence and it would have been rude of us to disappoint. And I really needed another pair of shoes *cough*. Went to Utopia for dinner. Yum. Walked back. Or should I say, tottered back. Or perhaps staggered back would be more appropriate. Whatever it is you do after one bottle of champagne, an irish coffee and an unknown quantity of wine.
Woke up Sunday with no hangover at all, but with a burn on elbow which I cannot recall acquiring. Debated doing something in the sunshine, but after reviewing NCIS and Supernatural season finales, both of which required large quantities of tissues and comfort food, didn’t really get round to it.
Our reticence was not helped by the small group of shirtless young men volunteering to wash cars for a couple of quid. Ghostie got a thorough washing. Jen’s car got a thorough washing. Jill tried very hard to translocate her car from London to Ashford using willpower but it didn’t work.
Back to the joy that is work on Monday. On the plus side, new mediator had first day flying solo. She was very nervous, and needed a lot of support, but she was great. House selling lady has finally, finally sold. All gone through. Now she has to find somewhere to buy.
Remember the down lady from last week? The one with the mother and sons? Her mother died suddenly on Sunday. Obviously devastated, and proceeded to be devastated in our work kitchen.
Boss man’s mother had heart attack Sunday morning and had operation Monday in London and is doing okay. The family was due to go on hols Sunday, so rest of family has gone. Boss man proceeded to be wibbly down the phone.
The clients pretty much all behaved, which has to be a first.
Am thinking that if either Eastenders or Ricky Gervais tried to emulate our office, it would be too unbelievable.