Fairy Boy

A snap of a utility box painting that hazelh blipped when it was under construction. It seems there is little variation in my blips at present, between utility boxes, other street art, the balcony, and gin.... This time will pass.

I was trained, this afternoon, in using a system. Very edifying... 2.5 hours of my life that I won’t get back. But I’m sure it will prove very useful. The trouble is that as always with these things, you’ve forgotten how to use them when you actually have to use them in anger. Then I will be grubbing around looking for a manual, or more likely asking a professional services colleague for help. Afterwards I was going to leave my exercise at the point where I’d done a brisk walk to the supermarket and back, thus gaining my blip, but in the end I persuaded myself into my kit and onto the spinning bike, and of course I was incredibly glad that I did so. The payback in terms of mood improvement is incalculable.

I sorted a few other things out as well. First thing this morning, I got through to Royal Mail after spending not too much time hanging on the line, and ascertained that if my parcel hasn’t turned up by Monday next week, I should make a claim on the seller to send me another item, and the sellers can make a claim on Royal Mail. Obvious really, as I don’t have a contract with Royal Mail, but the sellers do. That’ll be me scrutinising the Curry’s website trying to find a customer service number... I guess the Royal Mail handles 10s of millions of items per day, so even with tracking it’s unsurprising that some go missing. This is the first parcel we’ve had this sort of trouble with since the beginning of the first lockdown.

Oh, and we started the Esker. I like it very much. It’s very herby. Mr A is not (yet) convinced.

Onwards and upwards.