The Devil of Small Things

4 January – everything seemed okay in the morning but it just seemed that way – before I knew it I was overloaded and being stretched to the four points of the globe – it seemed like all day there were problems with pickups and deliveries – places were still closed (or at least the management of the buildings they worked in thought they were closed and kept the lifts out of order), gigantic jobs were represented as titchy little envelopes, jobs were cancelled and nobody bothered to tell me before I came to pick them up, the device constantly screwed up with phantom jobs and the dispatcher, inexplicably, seemed to forget the meaning of most of the words in the English language – each of these could be forgiven as just ‘one of dem fings’ but collectively they turned out to be a pain in the arse.  And, I wasn’t in a terribly good mood to start with. But, what are you going to do?  It’s just another day in the class.  Ended up ditching a planned reconciliation (although pretty certain  can claim it the other way) and spending an afternoon in the pub with Paul, my Crisis protégé - splendid fellow who’s life may have been changed, two days in a row drinking is not a good habit (but considering I’m on the tail end of the week I might be able to stretch it out to three or even four days – something that hasn’t been done for a sizeable amount of time. The AB seems to be doing rather well – the omelette is still very nice although it took far too long to make.  If anyone reading this can do anything about it I’d suggest they get on to it double quick time.  But I doubt they will.