Firstly, at 1.45pm, the panic alarm at work went off. Our team's reaction to this was not, in fact, panic, but a sense of befuddlement. After about a minute we decided we should probably vacate the building, and someone from upstairs informed us to do so, but upon getting halfway down the stairs we were then informed that it was an electrical problem, and not, in fact, a bomb.
I left work at 3.50, when it was STILL GOING ON, on every single landing, with periodic bursts of 500 decibel siren occasionally piercing through in our office. By the time I left, my left ear (the one closest to the door) was actually starting to hurt.
The bus journey home involved the usual fare of insane driver + squawking children, though thankfully the latter was few and far between.
I got off a stop early to investigate possibly registering at the newly-opened shiny surgery on Vicarage Road, because mine is annoying. I am now of the opinion that all NHS surgeries are annoying, and hence understand why people go private. According to the NHS website listing for the surgery, they close early on Wednesdays, which is the main grip I have with my current surgery. They're as bad as banks, except actually worse, given they don't open on Saturdays either. LOOK, SURGERIES. YOU ARE A PUBLIC SERVICE. CLOSING EARLY MID-WEEK AND AT WEEKENDS IS NOT HELPFUL.
Anyway, it took me about five minutes to find their front door because it's hidden round the back and only has one nonsensical signpost, and nothing over their front door to indicate that it's their front door. When I eventually got inside, I discovered that you can only register on Mondays and Tuesdays at 1.00pm.
Could you possible make youselves any less work-friendly? I'm really beginning to think it might be easier to register with a GP in Birmingham City Centre if they are so content to be completely inaccessible to those of us who work full-time. Employed people get sick, too. Strange but true.
So that's that. I won't be bothering, most likely. This is the first surgery I've encountered where you have to register at a certain day and time and it's really bloody stupid. My old old surgery made me temporarily register at the reception desk when I was practically doubled over in agony because of my kidney infection and didn't even bat an eyelid.
It's the NHS, I suppose - you get what you
Add to that the fact that about 50% of the people I encountered on the streets today obviously thought I was invisible or made of air, as they seemed content to try and walk straight through me.
And obviously, still no sign of the bus pass. I should really phone them today, but sensibility dictates I should wait until tomorrow, as I'm really not in the mood to speak to some gormless phone-monkey when they should have sent the bloody thing about a week ago. *burns TWM headquarters*
I'm already annoyed with my Cabaret layout, also, so have reverted to a calming pink-coloured one in the interim whilst I make a new one.