2nd April 2007
Hi all,
A few bits to tidy up from the past few weeks, but to begin with a cautionary tale of what it means to work in Glasgow.
Last Tuesday I was asked if I could return to the office late and help a telephone engineer get access to the building and carry out some maintenance. Simple enough I thought, and so I told Lorraine I guessed I would be home at around 9.30pm.
As you've probably already guessed, it didn't work out that way. I ended up leaving the office at 11.45pm, and still had to make a stop at a nearby 24-hour supermarket to get Lorraine some coffee (typically getting stuck behind a couple spending ?253 on two trolleys full of shopping as I did so). I still didn't think it would be that big a problem. I'm no stranger to late nights and at least the roads home would be quiet.
As a matter of fact the M8 eastbound was very quiet. This was because it was actually shut in the city centre. Before I knew it I was sighing behind the wheel, strumming my fingers on the dashboard and wondering how on earth I was in a traffic jam after midnight on a Tuesday.
I honestly think that Glasgow is a commuter's nightmare. Trains in and out of the city are unreliable and overcrowded, while the main road into the city centre (the aforementioned M8) is the ultimate in poor design, funnelling from four lanes outside the city centre down to two within the city centre. Contingency plans? Well by the looks of things on Tuesday night they don't appear to work very well.
So why do I continue to work in Glasgow? I really don't know when I?ve been telling stories of horrendous commutes for nine years now. I must need to get my head examined.
Glasgow traffic hasn't been the only thing frustrating me this week. Lorraine and I have both been battling sore throats and irritating coughs (amazing for me, given that I've not been inside a football stadium for four weeks now).
I tried everything over the course of the week. Paracetamol, lots of fluids, extra sleep. Nope, it still wasn't shifting. On Friday lunchtime I capitulated and decided to buy some medicine.
Medicines come in all shapes and forms, and when it comes to coughs you've got two choices when you're looking for treatment. Cough medicine for chesty coughs, or medicine for tickly coughs. "Hmm," I thought, looking at the shelves and trying not to look like a clueless idiot. "Where's this cough coming from?" Ignoring the obvious answer (my mouth) I decided to take the tickly cough option. I based this on the fact that a) my throat was sore, and b) every chesty cough medicine I have ever tried has tasted absolutely foul.
So what happened next? Well I bought the medicine, stepped outside the shop and soon felt like I could barely breathe. "Okay, it might be a chesty cough after all," I thought. Why can't these brilliant medical minds create an "anycough" cough medicine for non-medically minded people like myself?
Alas three days later the lingering effects are still here. Of course life goes on, you still have to wash-up, put rubbish out, change, wash and feed your daughter. Furthermore, when the sun is out for the first significant amount of time in the spring then you also have to cut the grass around your home.
Recently I've noticed a recurrence of Flymo advertisements on the TV, during which the value of the clear panel so that you can see when your lawnmower is full is emphasised. If you think that the lawnmower in the advert fills up quickly then you haven't seen mine when I'm cutting the grass for the first time in the spring. Not once, not twice, but five times I had to make trips to the bin to empty the lawnmower.
With the bin full and the lawn looking half-respectable I had to call a halt to proceedings. There were more rough edges than usual, but it would have to do. Honestly, I hate gardening. As much as I love the feeling of natural grass underfoot (not much use when it's only in front of your house) cutting it around pathways, chippings, fence posts and a flower bed isn't much fun, and that's even if some random object on your lawn doesn't make an horrendous sound when the mower runs over it. If it was affordable I'd be tempted to swap it for something artificial (and I'm the person who refers to new artificial turf technologies as "Evil Turf" just because it isn't the real thing).
Then again, it does get me outside when "Any Dream Will Do" is on the television. Forget I said anything.
Have a good week!
Tony
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