The Golden Oldies

I’m at work today; this isn’t quite as bad as it sounds, given that the rest of the world is off some place having lunch and swilling champagne. 

Why?  Well it’s blissfully quiet other than the golden oldies playing on the radio behind me.  So I’ve floated back to the 80’s at least three times in the last hour.

Every man and his dog take the three days between Christmas and New Year off.  Not me.  Taking holidays seems like a waste of leave to me, given the almost perfect environment I’m sitting in at the moment.  So far, the phone hasn’t rung once; I’ve received no real email and have had only the briefest of discussions regarding an application for the Women’s and Children’s program with my boss; after which, she pointed out that since there isn’t much on, I may as well go home after lunch.

I don’t have to be told twice – so now I am counting down the minutes until I can leave.  It has to be well timed so that I appear conscientious enough to linger after being told I can go; as opposed to just shutting down and running out the door, pausing to shout ‘yeehah’ on my way out.  

Other than checking email and the brief ‘work’ discussion, I’ve managed to talk about Christmas and then discussed concert tickets with the IT director.  We agreed that the death of royalties appears to be affecting the cost of seeing a decent band these days.  Technology is killing my world.

Then being in a Golden Oldie mood, I searched out a You Tube clip of the Rolling Stones singing Sister Morphine (in fact, I prefer Marianne Faithfull’s version [listen to it here]) and posted it to my nephew’s Facebook.  He is bored in hospital with a dicky heart and a stressed out wife.  The only highlight of his day, has been the morphine injection…

The up side of being in front of a computer for these three days is that I should have time to attend to stuff that continues to get left behind because I’ve been too busy; but who am I kidding..?

One thing I’ll say – it’s nice and quiet with the Squeeze’s kids and Harridan on the other side of the country.  Although it would be my preference for her to suddenly decide she intends to live there (and I wouldn’t put anything past her); the Squeeze would have to go to war because he actually likes to see them.

Either way, he is going to have to do something about the school report that was marred by comments regarding a lack of organisational skills (gee, wonder where the poor kid gets that from?) and bemoaning that the kid is late every day.  Not sure how the hell that works when she works there; I’m surprised they haven’t given her a swift kick. 

And now unfortunately, the kid will have to do it all again at the next “new” school in her quest for finding a muso/artist in the family.  Sigh.