Friday, 8 August 2014

Tough Day.

I had to ring the local council today about a possible problem. I made a suggestion to the woman which would have:

a. Expedited the matter in about one minute flat.

b. Possibly saved them money.

Unfortunately, she was one of those bureaucrats who can only work by reading from a script, the bottom line of which always reads resistance is useless. I gave up.

So then I had to ring a government department about another problem. I didn’t get to speak to anybody that time. Instead I sat through interminable and pointless recorded messages, a looped and third rate recording of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, and repeated interjections of ‘Thank you for holding. Alternatively, you might want to call back later. Our opening hours are…’ I gave up and decided to download a paper version of an enquiry form (you know, the sort you have to write on with a pen. Remember them?) I switched on the printer and clicked PRINT FORM. Nothing happened. OK, do it manually: Ctrl-P-Return. The printer buzzed into life, but stopped at page 3. Out of paper. Load more paper and press button. The printer switched itself off. I gave up (for the time being) and opened the door to the hairdresser, who was knocking and would have gone away again if I hadn’t. The haircut cost me £8.

*  *  *

Later, I suddenly remembered something really nasty I’d done as a kid. Don’t know why, it just jumped in. It gave me a lot of grief because:

a. I found it hard to believe I’d ever been that nasty,

b. I didn’t know how to handle the crushing sense of guilt which settled in and unsettled me.

*  *  *

And then I noticed something else:

The holes I now have in my jeans
Are really not that funny
It seems I have to find the means
To spend some freggin’ money

*  *  *

It’s been that kind of day. A busy day – too busy for musing and dreaming and doing all the really important things. Not abstract enough. Back to the music.

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