The lady in the bakers was being asked 'thick or medium?' by the girl, but the lady was deaf, so could only reply 'pardon' so the girl went, a little louder 'thick or medium?' but because the old lady was deaf she could only say 'pardon' so the girl put her face right up over the counter and directly in front of the old lady. She was so close there was probably condensation on her specs from the old girl's breath, and shouted 'THICK or MEDIUM?' The old lady did hear this time, but couldn't quite make her mind up. The need to make this decision gave her a little panic. Finally she opted for medium, which I suppose has something to do with the war and needing to make a loaf last. I was only in for a sandwich myself, would have been quicker and quieter to drive home and make one myself, but then I wouldn't have the joy inherent in sharing.
So I don't watch the telly anymore, I can only have quiet or classical music. It's not so much an illness, but it is potentially a disorder. Since coming back from the Hebrides, outer, which was so peaceful and just me and the mountains, I've tried to keep up the quiet. Going to work on Monday was a big shock. If you can imagine being sat in a dark quiet room for a long while, getting nice and comfy, calming down, soothing, meditating blah blah, and then the lights going on - full beam, and hundreds of people shouting 'SURPRISE!!' and blowing kazoo style apparatus - well coming to work was a bit like that.
I mentioned at the management board meeting that we should introduce a no talking at work policy to try and keep things a bit quieter. After all, as I said by way of explanation, 'people don't come to work to talk - this is a place of work' It wasn't agreed. Oh well. In a previous office, I worked with someone who was unable to ever, ever shut the fuck up, and who spent the whole blinking day mumbling away to herself, giving a frigging running commentary of every action and every thought, and an announcement of what she was going to do or think next - you get the picture? Firstly I put up a big sign on the wall behind my desk which said 'Talking in this area is strictly prohibited' Throughout the day when my dial clicked over to full - I would point at the sign forcibly - with a stick. She would then laugh and continue her inane blabber. In the end I managed to persuade my boss that my computer was broken and unfortunately the only other spare desk with a computer on was at the other end of the office. It was bliss.
Some people have to have the telly on whether there is anything on or not - like an armour against boredom perhaps, or in case there is an awkward silence.
So to conclude today's sermon has been about having a bit of P&Q and the wonderful health and spiritual benefits thereof. I'm not actually thinking about taking holy orders, although listening to Radio 3 I do get to hear evensong and it does make you want to be in a beautiful church, listening to beautiful voices, singing beautiful music. I'm sure as many people are regular church attendees for the music as are for the religion.
So I don't watch the telly anymore, I can only have quiet or classical music. It's not so much an illness, but it is potentially a disorder. Since coming back from the Hebrides, outer, which was so peaceful and just me and the mountains, I've tried to keep up the quiet. Going to work on Monday was a big shock. If you can imagine being sat in a dark quiet room for a long while, getting nice and comfy, calming down, soothing, meditating blah blah, and then the lights going on - full beam, and hundreds of people shouting 'SURPRISE!!' and blowing kazoo style apparatus - well coming to work was a bit like that.
I mentioned at the management board meeting that we should introduce a no talking at work policy to try and keep things a bit quieter. After all, as I said by way of explanation, 'people don't come to work to talk - this is a place of work' It wasn't agreed. Oh well. In a previous office, I worked with someone who was unable to ever, ever shut the fuck up, and who spent the whole blinking day mumbling away to herself, giving a frigging running commentary of every action and every thought, and an announcement of what she was going to do or think next - you get the picture? Firstly I put up a big sign on the wall behind my desk which said 'Talking in this area is strictly prohibited' Throughout the day when my dial clicked over to full - I would point at the sign forcibly - with a stick. She would then laugh and continue her inane blabber. In the end I managed to persuade my boss that my computer was broken and unfortunately the only other spare desk with a computer on was at the other end of the office. It was bliss.
Some people have to have the telly on whether there is anything on or not - like an armour against boredom perhaps, or in case there is an awkward silence.
So to conclude today's sermon has been about having a bit of P&Q and the wonderful health and spiritual benefits thereof. I'm not actually thinking about taking holy orders, although listening to Radio 3 I do get to hear evensong and it does make you want to be in a beautiful church, listening to beautiful voices, singing beautiful music. I'm sure as many people are regular church attendees for the music as are for the religion.
God bless and keep quiet.
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