2013 — 24 September: Tuesday
Looking much brighter1 while the sluggishness is merely the consequence of reading and exchanging emails into the small hours. It will wear off as the cobwebs are blown away, no doubt. Until then, there's the matter of breakfast, a packed lunch, and a question of rounding up the rest of the usual suspects — Mike and Brian in this instance. The dissonance of the morning blast of Ligeti is helping. The central movement of his violin concerto, indeed. I'm in no hurry for a repeat blast, even if the fiddler was Patricia what's-her-name (Kopatchinskaja).
(I bought her amazing "Rapsodia" at the end of May, he explained.)
Ever onward. I gather shops in the UK were closing at the rate of 18 per day in the first half of the year, but (oh, joy) are being replaced by others, including pawnbrokers. Now there's a sign of a 'healthy' economy. Or, at least, a load of balls.
Now, here's a cheery little news item:
Right! If I'm to be there, I need to linger no longer here. TTFN.
And here I am, back...
... after a surprisingly sticky six miles or so, to emailed news of the sudden death last Friday of a good friend's husband. Hell's Teeth!
I very nearly ripped up today's snailmail from BT as it was addressed to Mrs C Mounce, with the form of address that has an oddly-placed capital letter in it, so I assumed it was merely
further stupid marketing bumph. Good job I didn't, as it tells me what I need to know about leaving BT. Mind you, I'd be more impressed if they completed amending their records to reflect
Christa's death. Who on earth do they think has been paying the bills for the last six years? And the Young Turk to whom I spoke to find out if their mistake was going to cause me any
complications promptly started telling me I was wrong to leave his company.
Rule #1 in customer relationship management: the customer is always right, even when he's wrong.
Rule #2: in any conflict, refer back to Rule #1.
Even I know that one.
This lady's voice...
... has travelled along the same route — and nearly as far — as Marianne Faithfull's since I last heard her:
I bought the CD for track #3, which is a new version of Seal's song "Killer". Amazing.
Is there to be no end...
... to the afternoon's disturbances? Within ten minutes of hanging up on the Young Turk the landline rang to deliver an SMS by voice, also from BT, suggesting I was making a mistake by leaving BT. (My mistake, I'm starting to suspect, has been to stay with them for 32 years.) Then I'd just begun to sup my cuppa when a gentleman with a strong Indian accent called to tell me more in sorrow than in anger that he'd "received a report" that I, "or someone at my address", had had a minor car accident in the last three years, and... Having asserted to him that that was very interesting, though without telling him why, I politely but firmly told him he was in error, and hung up.
In the earlier years of my sole occupancy here, I admit I might have been quite rude. Now? I just can't be arsed :-)
I confess...
... I've been in a state of mild shock for much of the afternoon, and now the early evening. I have a question: Is it worse to lose your spouse four months after a terminal diagnosis (as I did)? Or while sitting quietly at home one evening without any warning whatsoever (as my friend did)? I suspect this must be one of Life's trick questions.