A man of someone else's age...

I recently took delivery of some very nice new furniture, which was kindly gifted to me.

I’m chuffed to bits as it really ties the room together. It also looks nice and is very comfortable. Shame about the pillock sat on the snuggler and blocking the view in this shot though.

This morning found me in Blackpool for a company mandated bi-annual heath check-up. Things were off to a rocky start when the nurse opened with a confident declaration that I was 53. I corrected her Freudian slip and stated that whilst I certainly looked it and felt it most of the time, there was no need to be mean by ageing me a decade. I also informed her that we were going to be spending some intimate time together over the course of the next hour, so we might as well be nice to each other. At this point she asked me to remove my shirt, whereupon she shaved me a little, glued some stuff to me and then proceeded to run an electrical current through my body. Kinky sod, she didn’t even buy me lunch first…

There’s a couple of minor things to follow up on, but in the main, I’m in good shape and an improved specimen on the one who visited them two years ago, which is good to know.

Following this, I met with my boss for a performance review, who asked me to put my shirt back on and also to explain why I had a rude word shaved into my chest hair. This review also went well and for the first time in a while, I’ve been able to tick all the right boxes. 

Polished off some emails on my return home, sorted tea for myself and The Eldest in good time before Simmo arrived for an overdue and much-needed walk and catch-up. We thought it may have cooled down by the time we headed out, but we were very much mistaken and proved a tasty snack for all sorts of bitey insects. 

On the plus side, we avoided being trampled by cows.

It’s been a good day.