Work, Scrap Metal, and Beer
I think I probably broke some sort of record for hours spent in conference calls this week. Hour upon hour talking, listening, writing notes, and so on. It did occur to me during the week how fortunate I am to have discovered bullet journaling though; without my little book full of spider scrawl and dots I'm not sure I would cope.
Just after finishing work a scrap dealer turned up to take my daughter's car away. She bought it to learn to drive in, but then the pandemic happened, and it has been sitting on the driveway for the last year without moving – getting it taxed and insured again would cost more than it's worth. She doesn't seem particularly sad about it – especially as the waiting list for driving tests is 18 months long at the moment (yes, you read that right – there's an 18 month waiting list – not just for cars – logistics companies all over the country are in panic mode at the moment – there are no drivers).
Anyway.
I've just cracked open a can of beer. I “lucked into” a case of beer arriving because my other half forgot to cancel the subscription. It started out as a half-price trial, and now we're three months in. That's obviously how they make their money.
p.s. IT'S THE WEEKEND!