Skip to main content

Saturation point

 How many passwords can one hold in  the head?  How many things can one do at once?  I know women are multi-taskers but does that mean physically we can do more than one thing at once or that our brains are set up to think about multiple things at the same time?  My brain is at saturation point, full of words, numbers, squiggles, cryptic passwords, nonsensical ones, and they tell us not to  write them down!  Even Einstein wrote his theories on a blackboard,  he didn't try to keep them all in his poor head.

I have moved so often that I am more or less a minimalist but I have always lived in fairly large properties and this time I am moving into a very small apartment, which means I have to get rid of stuff, lots of it, and this is no easy task.  It's in good nick so I would like to sell some of it but that is no easy task.  I may have to cut my losses and give it all to charity, who are already receiving a fair chunk of it.

Someone slapped Macron  in the face.  In England they throw eggs, especially if  they are European ones, in Iraq they threw shoes at Bush and Hollande got a bag of flour all over him.  All we need is milk and we can make pancakes.  How come no-one managed to throw anything at Trump?  I would have loved something to have landed on his orange face and in his lacquered hair.  Macron is in Cornwall  this week.  I wouldn't fancy his chances there.  Pork sausages perhaps?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm Free

 After being incarcerated in my son's house waiting for the results of the day 2 test I was finally allowed out today.  I went to Chichester and was saddened by the number of familiar shops that have disappeared from the town centre.  Bognor is the same.  You wouldn't die of thirst in either town though as the number of cafes has increased.  Both town centres were busy making it difficult to keep a safe distance from others but many people were wearing masks in the street. I was pulled over by Customs in Caen.  As I opened the trunk of the car one of the officers asked me if I was carrying goods.  'Yes,' I replied, ' French Champagne and French wine'  They nodded approvingly and waved me away. During my 3 days in the house, I have cleaned, filed all their paperwork, mended the shower, cooked dinner and tried watching television, the latter being totally uninspiring.  The news consists of covid, travel restrictions, forbidden Christmas parties...

D day lasts 3 days

 This morning, with my head full of things I still have to do, I got on the tram and forgot to scan my ticket.  The inspector got on 2 stops later and said I had to pay 45€ for this lapse.  Why can't I scan it now?  a reasonable question in my opinion, was met with scorn, so I  paid up.  On the tram back from the hospital there she was again and checked my ticket with glee.  While she was doing that a young man got on, sat down  and did not show any sign of even having a ticket, let alone scanning one.   The inspector passed him by without a second glance.   Today is the last day for packing and organising.  Tomorrow the removal company will arrive at 6am to take it all away and put it in storage.  Tomorrow night I will sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor and Thursday I go to the hospital to be nuked for the last time.  The sleeping bag is the one that saved me from hypothermia when a friend and I were lost for ...