Office Games

In the office at work where the youth team live there is a clapped out radio. It has a paperclip as an aerial and the CD lid is hinge-free. It spews out Real Radio all day. Occasionally, for a change, it plays Forth One.

If I hear Mika one more time I might go postal. As for Gwen Stefani, well, I've heard her wailing one too many time: she is not my favourite girl, so she's right there...

Anyway, whenever I am left in the office on my own I play a little game: I re-tune the radio to Classic FM.

Apart from finding it relaxing, inspirational, complex, mood enhancing stuff -usually without any niggling asinine words to distract me from putting together project descriptions, grant proposals, case-notes etc (and it doesn't help anyone when you are planning for a serious meeting with the high heid yins to have Take That's "Whine"-sorry- "Shine" running through your head)- it amuses me no end when someone else from the team does a double take and pulls the horrified, "oh no- Culture!" face.

OK, so they immediately re-tune the radio to something poppy, but I chalk it up as a small victory, nonetheless.

Little things... I know.

In other news, the Furry Baby Bun isn't entirely well. To be precise, she seems to have ISS (Intermittent Soft Stools) - a sort of bunny IBS, I suppose. Theo and I are both worried about the vast quantities of pappy poop she is passing, so we are taking her to be seen by the BFV (Big Friendly Vet). She is binkying and gnawing as normal, so we aren't yet scared for her life, but it is nonetheless worrying. It can be stressful being a parent...

(A brief return) Our Very Furry Baby

OK - in short...
  1. Theo: increasingly/consistently lovely
  2. Job: challenging
  3. Trauma: recovering *I broke my ankle - ironically, on my way to accompany Theo to an emergency visit to the hospital... it's getting better, but I'm still walking with a limp...
  4. Furry Baby: adorable
I am a very proud parent, apparently. I look extraordinarily pleased when she eats veg or hay. She's fearless, too- unphased by cats, loud noises, anything at all, really. And she doesn't shit all over the place, either... and just like her mummies, she is a born rug-muncher (admittedly, the furry one prefers the woolly things from IKEA, but all the same... )

I wasn't sure I was responsible enough to be a parent... I'm still not sure, but bless her little furry trousers and shoes, she makes me responsible, dammit!

If you are lucky, you might get an update pic from time to time. If you are unlucky, you might just get a wee whinge about work from me...

[Not sure about a regular return to blogging - I'm busy, maybe in another period of transition, maybe just busy...and no, I'm not being needlessly enigmatic, just playing my cards close to my chest...]