I awoke from apocolyptic dreams of escaping from a burning church and watching planes crashing into Hillsborough to the sound of the alarm just before six. I really struggled to get moving this morning, although I did get out of the house for half past seven. Not that it did me much good, as the motorway was the usual slog. An accident just before Chesterfield and a stranded lorry a little further on caused a tailback, and I'd travelled less than twenty miles in an hour.
Fun fun fun.
Still, I got a confirmed 57 and 58 on the way - I had seen a glimpse of a 57 last night, but it's nice to be certain. Work was reasonably productive, although I've got a patch to apply to the accounts system tomorrow, which should in theory be straightforward but has the potential to cock things up big time if I don't do it properly. Oh joy.
The boss was in a meeting, so I snuck out at four o'clock and had a good journey home listening to Radio 2. The business news came on at half past five with a warning that Alders were under threat of going bust. Hmmm ....
"Mrs Dogwood, you know that sofa you just ordered today? You didn't buy it from Alders did you?"
Luckily they didn't make too much of a fuss about cancelling the order ...
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