Showing posts with label Senile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Senile. Show all posts

Tuesday 4 August 2020

Tuesday Scream!




I slept badly.
Awake every hour or near enough.
Too hot, too cold, too tired, too awake, on and on it went.
I stumbled up around 7 am, scampered unwillingly to Sainsburys masked like a bank robber, though they usually are not struggling to breathe or blinded by steam on the glasses.  Hurried back to find the laptop dying.
The adaptor wire helpfully broke meaning no power was entering and the battery was soon running out.
This meant a struggle to find a replacement, and an even greater struggle to get the old laptop, slow and difficult, to work.
By means of EBay I may have a replacement arriving soon...maybe, if it is the right one. Until then I must make do with this useless old one.



Herein the day got worse.
Not having been used since my failed Linux experiment naturally the beast was in a huff.
Nothing would work.
Eventually it worked but everything had to begin again.
Everything slowly, oh soooo sloooowly began to begin again.
It was at this point I remembered how sailors swore...
All day I played with browsers, downloaded, slowly, the required items, slowly got them to work slowly and often suggested to Toshiba what they could do with this laptop.  They did not answer.
By afternoon I not only had much of it working I even found the cricket, which I canny watch as I am watching things appear, often uninvited, onto the screen.  
Tired, weary, unable to sleep it off as I expected the workmen to knock and the postie to bring a packet.
She arrived eventually, just on one O'clock.  As she now works only three days she can survive the system, it is however not a good one.  Poor women needs an easy round, this once was, I did it myself, but changes, absurd changes, make the posties life hard.  Management, driven by paper wielding  non-posties in offices far away do not provide a service as in days of yore.   Blood from stone Tory style instead.  We must all expect more such work practices to abound under this government.


Now I comprehend that a Syrian women, endangered in a Turkish tented refugee camp with her children while her man abandons her to make his way to fame and fortune in Europe has more reasons to scream than I have.  I really do understand.  However, early this morning I was not understanding much, least of all how to get this brute to work.  
I wonder what fun lies ahead tomorrow... 

Friday 27 February 2015

Senility Dawns.



I put the used teabags into the teapot, as you do, recycling means a lot if it saves money.  I placed the mug at the side, filled the kettle and switched it on. I took the milk from the fridge and began to pout the milk into the teapot. It was then I stopped as it dawned on me something was not right.  
This was typical of my week. 
OK we have all walked in front of cars because we didn't look, everybody has walked out the door in their slippers, all have forgotten the lunch was still sitting on the cooker instead of inside it cooking, all forget dinner is in the oven and go on to eat burnt things.  I've done that this week.
It was judicious of me to stay indoors this week, I was feared to go outside into the real world!

My plight did not get ignored however.  As I lay on my bed I noticed eyes watching me.  Up in the tree the, vulture like, the crows gathered around eyeing me up and muttering about 'road kill.'  It was a bit anxious like when one of them started to grumble 'Let's do something!'  I shut the curtains quickly and asked the neighbour to send the cats out!  I locked the doors also just in case. I have seen that Hitchcock film!

Pleasure came from watching endless repeats of 'Time Team,' and one or two of the better 'Top Gear' programmes and several dozen football matches!  Falkirk ought to have stuffed the blue bigots tonight by the way.  I also have been reading Tacitus, WW2 diaries and Jerry's latest book. More of that later. The rest of the time I lay on the floor watching the Ladybird walk around the lampshade while I cried "Why me?  Why me?" plaintively.

I did no work of any sort, as the mess in the place reveals.     
 

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