It's a shame I'll probably die a lingering death from lung disease all for the sake of spending twelve quid on a new mask from Wickes, instead of 'making do' with the old one.
That's because it certainly works a lot better than previous masks, no black nose pickings at all, even after a days Kango-ing in amongst a Crieff fireplace.
However, felt a bit overwhelmed this morning by cash flow and the seemingly endless endlessness of chimneys.
It struck me that mid-life is a bit like the interval during a performance of say an Andrew Lloyd Weber musical when you go out to collect your pre-paid drinks. Then the bell signifying the start of the second half goes and you say - "I don't think it's going to get any better, do you? What do you think, shall we just go home?"
Then just to emphasise that things could be worse, the back door of the van swung out on a corner getting wedged against the trailer further reducing its chances of ever staying shut.
This caused me to swear at the Inveralmond Industrial Estate.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Swear at the Inveralmond Industrial Estate? Or swear within the bounds of the Inveralmond Industrial Estate?
I won't hear a bad word against my motorcycle training ground.
Heard on the radio that just one lungful of asbestos dust could be fatal, jings.
Also I recently took C on his first driving lesson on that same estate. Must have chosen the wrong day as we couldn't move off the starting grid due to several hundred HGVs.
Probably at least one of these is an exaggeration.
One asbestos fibre can kill you.
but on the upside symptoms may take 60 years to develop.
Post a Comment