Solid ice the whole mile from the station to the office: all pedestrians walking on the road. Except the poor woman standing on the ice, waiting to be rescued by her boyfriend. I helped her off the ice and she told me she thought she had broken her arm in a fall. I left her to wait by a fence, having checked she was warm enough.
I could barely reach the office steps, so when I did, I dragged the 6x4 doormat out onto the pavement and got covered in 40 years of accumulated dust for my trouble ("What do you mean you want the hallkeepers to come over and put it back, in the ice and the filth you describe?". "Sorry, Helen, I'll do it myself, then")
Only 4 in the office ("Can't get out the drive; I had to leave my car in a hedge; there's an Argos lorry blocking the road; 2 buses have been stuck for 2 hours etc).
A letter with a red tracker was on my desk, from the MP, needing a response to a constituent. Luckily I rang HR to check what response I should make: the constituent is under police caution for defrauding the Council, so that was that one easily solved: send the letter to HR. A couple of emails, sympathy for my colleague who had fallen over and hurt his back, a mince pie, a doughnut, and bollocks, off to the pub for 11am for my promised free drink from my trusty landlord (via the bank to stick £80 in my son's uni house account to pay some bills: he can't, he is away on the Isla Margarita off the Venezuelan coast, poor boy).
The return train was the new fangled Paignton-Cardiff with 4 coaches and the 6000HP superpower of 2 class 67s.
Packed my bag, helped my angel with hers, and time for a snooze.
I thought Christmas Eve was tomorrow, but it seems it has come early, what with the half day. Oh, and there's no-one to check, as the Boss has a suspected heart attack (so won't care), I have no manager, there are no managers in anyway, so I think I might forget to fill in my leave card. It is only what the Council Tax payer deserves. I have earnt it.
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