Nov
24
…is a wonderful thing.
Today at lunchtime I left my frustrating job and drove my broken underpowered car through the shitty roads past all the idiots who were trying to kill me and stopped at a dump of a pub that stank, staffed by surly idiots and full of smelly old people in a god-forsaken village near York.
There, I ate a meal.
And left the quaint, old worldy pub (with a genuine open fire) full of fascinating salt-of-the-earth people who all must have had stories to tell, and jumped in my zippy little runabout (that is really easy to park and cost about 20p) and drove through what is wonderful weather for this time of year back to my job which I really quite enjoy.
3 comments so far...
Top lunch, matey. I must say I feel better after my visit to the Jolly Judge
Yay for blood sugar.
I’ve found that if I go home for lunch at 1pm, Sarah and I shout at each other and get miserable.
If I go home at 12:30, we have a lovely chat and a pleasant lunch and I return to work with a spring in my step.
The thing is, I never actually feel hungry at 12:30.
Mmmmmm donuts.
Sorry, miles away. Hoorah for a quick grumpy-to-serene turnaround!
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