I've had a day off work today - mainly as part of an effort to reduce my outstanding holidays to a level I can carry over to the next year without losing any. I think I've been carrying over the same five days since I started work over eight years ago. I figure I'll use them eventually, as long as they don't have a use-by date like milk does. It would be awful to take a week away and find that your days had gone off. The swimming pool would have gunk on top of it, smell bad and would have to be thrown away. The beach would be all stuck together. And the pretty foreign girls would all have facial warts. Not a good holiday.
Maybe I won't ever take those five days after all. They sound minging.
It's nice being off on a Wednesday though - it breaks up the week into two manageable chunks: A Monday/Tuesday chunk where the world is new and everything will be achieved; and a Thursday/Friday chunk where it's not worth starting or doing anything because it's nearly the weekend.
I've done a few useful things around the flat - a bit of tidying, a bit of washing and a bit of cleaning. There is still more to do, but then there's always more of that to do. I've also read books, strummed guitar, played computer games, ran six miles and learnt to dance the Ballroom Tango. I've eaten crisps, pork pie and pizza. I've seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. Etc.
So not a bad day overall.
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2 comments:
So that last one must mean it's time to die, yes?
It certainly doesn't bode well for those people in the attack ships.
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