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Wed Jan 18th, 2017
 | 09:15 pm - No, it's the third *Tuesday* in January that sucks
Roused at 7 yesterday morning, breakfasted, & did requisite half hour of exercises that sometimes allow me to walk. At 8 put on spiked boots, inched along icy streets in the sleet towards the bus stop, saw cab and took that instead. Thus was half hour early for 9 o'clock shift, and just as well because 8:30 person was caught on stalled transit. (TTC is reliable in that you can rely on the signals to break down when there's ice or snow.) She arrives and I wander upstairs; at 9 a.m. an outside replacement person appears- hired to work for F/T staff R, I suppose- at 9:30 *my* replacement arrives (a long story I won't go into: but yes, a half hour shift) and is informed that no, /he's/ working for B starting at 10, the outside replacement is doing the 9 o'clock shift, and I am here precisely why? Why, because that's what it says on the schedule and no one informed either of us about the changes.
And still just as well because toddler 9:30 person has unaccountably failed to show, so I'm her for ninety minutes until I have to leave for physio. But I made precisely six dollars on the morning after deducting cab costs, and though everyone is figuratively singing 'Why it's good old reliable Nathan, Nathan Nathan Nathan Detroit!' at me, and my karma account is in the black, I would *much* rather have slept in till 10.
Sleet becomes driving rain, wind threatens to blow umbrella inside out, and the walk home from physio drenches me to the skin. So I change all my clothes and have lunch, put on theoretically waterproof jacket under old winter jacket (which is not waterproof at all at all at all) and gingerly take the bike out into the slackening rain for my afternoon shift. Bring Metropass in case wind defeats bicycle, which it doesn't. So yay me. But when I get home and empty my old coat, guess what has slipped out of its shallow pockets? Why yes, that very expensive Metropass. Used precisely three times and gone. I swear I'm going to give both my old winter coats to the Diabetes Society: this isn't the first time a metropass has fallen out unobserved.
It's still done its magical duty, because if the long range forecast is correct, it won't snow until a week Saturday. But still- it might have come in handy for doctors appointments and suchlike.
Just finished?
Estleman, Dr Jekyll and Mr Holmes
-- provenance: someone's Little Free library. Holmes pastiche settles the reading stomach, but this was still a pointless exercise
Now?
Hodel and Wright, Enter the Lion: a Posthumous Memoir of Mycroft Holmes
-- provenance: some other Wee Free Library. This started promising, and more readable than Jekyll and Holmes in spite of those mistakes that modern writers who don't do basic research are so sadly prone to. I do not think the ladies retired to the drawing room after dinner to 'freshen up', as H&L maintain, nor did they return to the dining room after doing so. Though I like the notion of a hostess proposing 'shall we join the gentlemen?' after her female guests have finished drinking their tea.
But then it got plain silly. Mycroft gives no evidence of a super brain that I can see. And- well, let us suppose you want to find Mr Gladstone in London. He is not at home. But we know he's a religious man, so we'll next look for him in all the churches near his house. Not there! Ah, but he's also a distinguished Greek scholar, so he must be in a library somewhere, and the most likely library is the Brit. Mus, And ahah! there he is in the ms. room. Now me, I can think of ten places offhand where a retired William Gladstone might be on any afternoon, and neither church nor the Brit.Mus. is one of them.
We shall pass over Mycroft In Love with the silence it deserves.
And next?
Not a clue, except to keep on with what's on hand. In these Latter Days, reading itself seems pointless.
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Mycroft In Love- I don't know if I want to contemplate even such a thing.
You must've been all frozzed up and chilled to the bone. Egad! I would've never survived. If I could I'd send you a blast of warm air, without the humidity of course. Just a quick short blast of maybe 20 C ... ^_^
You'll have to settle for virtual hugs instead I'm afraid. *HUGS* - warm ones. Oh, it's quite alright: Mycroft is young and thinner than in the later stories (fat men can never be in love, of course) and so innocent he barely knows that he's been seduced by an obvious double-dealing southern belle.
The current temps are well above normal, which is fine but makes one fret about the summers to come. Thanks for the virtual hugs anyway- warmth at a distance. |
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