It’s been a very lacklustre morning for me so far.
Another late night, early morning combo has left me feeling lethargic and the plans I had for today have gone out the window and counted for nought.
Linda got me up to drive her to work as she was running late and would not have been able to find a park in the city very easily so into town I went although it was hardly stressful. A bit of traffic but no real hassle.
Once home a feeling listlessness has set in and dogged me all morning. Rather than go out walking and do the bit of homework I was planning I seem to have managed to waste time doing nothing much at all.
A bit of reading. A fascinating book on the Peter Falconio disappearance has become a bit of a page turner for me and I may get back to it as soon as I have finished typing today.
Other than that, a bit of a play on the computer, a wistful look outside at the stuff I need to do in our backyard and that’s it. Time is running out this morning and it will be off to work again for the last time this week.
I am really feeling it in my feet and ankles today. It’s funny how you can work for days on end and feel fine then all of a sudden the fruits of your labour at work catch up with you and your body starts to groan and tell you it’s not very happy with the way you have been treating it.
I have been working at AP for 25 years, standing on concrete floors for much of that time and I think, having started there so young, the stress on my feet, ankles and legs is starting to tell on me a little.
With our new parcel centre apparently set to rise from the ashes of confusion later this year, some serious thought will have to be put in to what I am going to do with myself.
Machinary work all day after the parcels are gone hardly sets my imagination alight but going down the road to the parcel centre will be much harder work and I wonder how my body would shape up to five or ten years of sorting big parcels manually and standing on concrete floors all day for all that time. I can’t imagine there will be much chance to sit down and take a break either.
Also, on another level, if it is to be run like a concentration camp then I would not want to be a part of it either. Unfortunately I have no confidence in the powers that be who will make these decisions and it will almost certainly turn into a disaster. Do I want to be a part of that?
A lot to think about and some big decisions to be made in the near future.
So, nothing left to do but soldier on and try to get throught the day as calmly as possible and try to make something of it. The weekend is just about upon us giving me a point of reference to work to and a metaphorical truckstop on the highway of life to call into and refresh myself.
I am starting to feel better as the morning wears on although my feet are crying “indian” as I flex and shake them, trying to get the blood circulating and preparing them for the day.
Hope all those concerned have a great day and I will catch up with you all on the flipside.
Another late night, early morning combo has left me feeling lethargic and the plans I had for today have gone out the window and counted for nought.
Linda got me up to drive her to work as she was running late and would not have been able to find a park in the city very easily so into town I went although it was hardly stressful. A bit of traffic but no real hassle.
Once home a feeling listlessness has set in and dogged me all morning. Rather than go out walking and do the bit of homework I was planning I seem to have managed to waste time doing nothing much at all.
A bit of reading. A fascinating book on the Peter Falconio disappearance has become a bit of a page turner for me and I may get back to it as soon as I have finished typing today.
Other than that, a bit of a play on the computer, a wistful look outside at the stuff I need to do in our backyard and that’s it. Time is running out this morning and it will be off to work again for the last time this week.
I am really feeling it in my feet and ankles today. It’s funny how you can work for days on end and feel fine then all of a sudden the fruits of your labour at work catch up with you and your body starts to groan and tell you it’s not very happy with the way you have been treating it.
I have been working at AP for 25 years, standing on concrete floors for much of that time and I think, having started there so young, the stress on my feet, ankles and legs is starting to tell on me a little.
With our new parcel centre apparently set to rise from the ashes of confusion later this year, some serious thought will have to be put in to what I am going to do with myself.
Machinary work all day after the parcels are gone hardly sets my imagination alight but going down the road to the parcel centre will be much harder work and I wonder how my body would shape up to five or ten years of sorting big parcels manually and standing on concrete floors all day for all that time. I can’t imagine there will be much chance to sit down and take a break either.
Also, on another level, if it is to be run like a concentration camp then I would not want to be a part of it either. Unfortunately I have no confidence in the powers that be who will make these decisions and it will almost certainly turn into a disaster. Do I want to be a part of that?
A lot to think about and some big decisions to be made in the near future.
So, nothing left to do but soldier on and try to get throught the day as calmly as possible and try to make something of it. The weekend is just about upon us giving me a point of reference to work to and a metaphorical truckstop on the highway of life to call into and refresh myself.
I am starting to feel better as the morning wears on although my feet are crying “indian” as I flex and shake them, trying to get the blood circulating and preparing them for the day.
Hope all those concerned have a great day and I will catch up with you all on the flipside.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 