May 13th 2017 – home

The surprise meal to celebrate Mrs S’ twenty years of service at the practice turned into a bit of a damp squib when after weeks of secretive planning, one of the receptionists accidentally sent a message meant for the boss apologising for not being able to make the party to Mrs S herself the day prior to the event. It was a huge disappointment, particularly for those involved in the arrangements, but Mrs S bawled the receptionist out and she spent all afternoon in tears which I thought was a tad harsh; after all, it was a mistake, it wasn’t the end of the world and it saved Mrs S the embarrassment of turning up for the meal in her work clothes as she would’ve done when she just thought she and the boss were going out for a casual, post-work bite. It turned malicious on the day of the dinner itself when rumours were bandied about that the receptionist in question had let the cat out of the bag on purpose. As if. It was a genuine mistake which she obviously felt terrible about but the bitchiness amongst the reception staff can be extreme at times. I’m more than willing to back her up if it prevails.

The dinner itself was pleasant enough. Dr Gooner and Mrs S both did impromptu speeches which the boss videoed and Mrs S then rewatched at work the following day, tears in her eyes. It was total overkill in my opinion but I let her have her moment in the sun and willingly watched it again with her with minimal eye-rolling when she snorted with laughter at her own quips. She doesn’t get much praise at home, indeed when she told her husband that the party was being thrown in her honour, he harrumphed that he could be at work for sixty years and his colleagues wouldn’t dream of celebrating it. What a miserable sod.

Last night, we went to The Cookie in Leicester to watch a band called Gurr – a four piece, mainly female group (apart from the drummer) from Berlin. After hearing a track on 6Music, I had a scout around on Youtube for other songs and then saw they were gigging in Leicester. They’re punky and exuberant, a little bit riot grrl, a little bit Ramonesy. We had a good time and it certainly made a change from yet another night in the local. As an added bonus, we weren’t even the oldest spectators.

Overheard at the library earlier:

CHILD: It says here that all children have sticky hands. I think that’s racist.


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