Another day, another trip into work to move things from old work to new work.
Did I mention, last time, about the vast number of stairs involved in this process? There are a lot. There was also, I was fairly sure, a gremlin involved somewhere who kept adding more stuff to the pile of things I needed to move. Every time I returned to old Riddle there seemed to be so much stuff to carry across, and all of it was a stupid shape or heavy or annoying or…
Basically I am one man with two arms.
In front of me is one of the steepest staircases in human history. It’s practically vertical. I am not going to laden myself down with stuff and then climb those stairs without dying around the half-way point. And believe me, it came close.
And, of course, it was only windy twice during the entire afternoon – during both of these occasions I was carrying large boards across the road. Large boards which acted as sails. Oh how I laughed as the weather tried to rip them from my hands and throw them down the road further into town. I certainly didn’t swear at them repeatedly. Not I.
One of the things I enjoyed the most was the number of people I saw wearing masks.
But they were wearing them.
I had mine with me, but was not wearing it as I was very carefully social distancing and lone working. And yet, somehow I had the same level of protection as the people I saw wearing theirs. Weird, isn’t it.
The number of masks that are used to support what I can only assume are lazy chins is staggering. And the number of people who wear them only over the mouth and not the nose is also mind-boggling.
How are we, as a country, allowed to go to pubs again from tomorrow (ugh) when we, as a country, can’t put masks on properly?
I wanted to go up to all of the people with the masks just over their mouths and cough directly up a nostril.
I didn’t, of course, because I couldn’t do that from an appropriate distance. And, often, I was being kited about by a piece of board. But the thought was there.