Waiting, waiting, waiting

Delivery persons are the scourge of our age. It’s so convenient to buy over the net and have a man+van deliver it, but so irritating when said man in said van fails to arrive on the designated day.

The sun’s out, it’s a warm day, I have things to buy, people to see, cheques to bank (well, one cheque, but it has trailing zeros before the decimal point so I’d like to bank it quickly), but I’m tied to the flat waiting, waiting, waiting.

I need a gopher. Or maybe a waitpher, so I can do the going bit.

Meanwhile, someone in a flat opposite (directly above James) seems to have installed tinfoil windows. Heat reflectors? I don’t recall moving to the Mojave Desert. Maybe it’s something to do with the US Government and thought rays. I wonder what they’d do if I put a tinfoil silhouette of a man underneath that window.


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