Bellerophon symbol, variation 7 jonath.co.uk
Thursday 6th Jul 2006
So this week I have been looking after A****** without M****, as M**** is doing some training or something or other, over in Leeds, as luck would have it. So yeah . . . I've taken Thursday and Friday off work and A****** was cared for at the 'baby unit' (nursery?!) on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, which will be the way things are for A****** for quite some time (the nursery bit, not me being off work). Due to the proximity of all these things, I can drop A****** off on the way to work, take him home for lunch and . . . yeah, you can probably guess the last bit. I think what I'm getting at is that taking A****** to and from nursery is barely out of my way to where I would normally be going. I was a bit freaked on Sunday night, wondering how I would cope without M****, but it's all been fine (well, almost, but that wasn't my fault). I was gonna say something then, but someone kept singing, "Goodnight, Vienna," in my headphones which must have distracted me. Or maybe it was the lack of rhythm that was distracting me. It sounded like some kind of practice session. Erm . . . yeah. So today not much happened. Did loads of clothes washing, went to town to take some stuff to the dry cleaners and buy some varnish and paint for the kitchen. Erm . . . and then I went food shopping, fed/bathed A******, and here I am . . . here I am.
Wow - I got to say the line, "I'm sorry, but I'm not prepared to disclose that information over the telephone," to someone tonight. Someone had been talking about this very thing whilst in France recently and, so . . . .well, you look up the phone directory, you get my name and my phone number and maybe you take a wild stab in the dark about a company who I have dealings with . . . And they rang me, asking if I had a spare ten minutes. Well, what the hell, fire away. The next ten minutes consisted of a load of questions related to my last communications with Company X (god, I only rang them to tell them I had moved house), asking me to rate my 'experience', "Was the service you received excellent, fairly good, neither good nor bad, fairly bad or . . . something else altogether," so I answered all these, even making it sound like I could recall whether the conversation I had with Company X all those months ago would influence my decision to recommend Company X to my friends and family (on a scale from 1 to 10). Craziness. At the end, Annabelle starting getting personal, asking about when I was born, my family, all this crazy stuff, and when I refused to disclose that information, even asked, "Well, would you be able to answer 'yes' or 'no' if I were to ask you roughly when you were born?" NO! No, I would not!! But dear old Annabelle understood, and gave me various phone numbers, the name of her manager, the company she represented, et cetera. Maybe I'll chase it all up, although I'm meant to be varnishing various things and painting some walls or ceilings or something . . . erm . . .

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