![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Feb. 16th, 2007 09:13 pmScanning the shift swap board this morning, I spotted a request from Amanda #2 wanting someone to cover a Monday. I rang her on my mobile, got her answerphone and left a message to say I'd do that swap for her, filled in a swap form and handed it in.
An hour later Lorna came up to me to say Amanda had phoned the office to apologise to me as she'd already got someone to do the swap; she must have left the card on the board by mistake. So then I had to go and tell Kevin that the swap was off, persuade him that I didn't want to cancel any of my many swaps with Rachel that he happened to be in the middle of processing, be told by Kevin that Paul would have to deal with me, and wait an hour for Paul to come back from wherever he'd disappeared to and explain the situation to him.
The rest of the shift went smoothly enough, though my last interview overran. You're usually pretty safe when you get just one person with 20 minutes of the shift left, but this young lady, while perfectly nice, was a bit on the slow side and had some complicated circumstances - then at the end I had to hang up and call her back a couple of minutes later so she could retrieve the mobile number of her brother, with whom she lives, from her phone.
With my bus missed, I took the opportunity to check my internal e-mails, which I hadn't done yet, and put five extra minutes on my day's pay.
Down to the coffee lounge to check my ordinary e-mail with Home To Roost on ITV3 in the background.
This evening we were guests at a local hospital's League of Friends Cheese and Wine. There was a big varied spread of food, including olives (not many other people were interested in them, so I was able to take a big helping), while the cheeses included my favourite, Emmental. There was, fortunately, orange juice as well as wine; when the men serving the wine asked me "Red or white?" I replied "Orange juice, I'm on antibiotics."
"Bad luck," said the other man. "We thought this'd be your chance to have a few drinks since you're being chauffeur-driven."
"No booze for me till next Wednesday."
"What a shame," the guy smiled, handing me my orange juice.
We spent the evening circling the room talking to elderly ladies, hospital staff and some Rotarians. Chris, a councillor, and his wife Jane, who'd been with us in France, were also there, and Jane quizzed me about future travel plans. One guy asked me a few things about my duties as mayor's consort, and seemed to come away with the impression that life as mayor and consort was one big gravy train. He asked whether we win much on raffles and whether it's a fix; when I told him she has managed to pull one of my numbers out on a couple of occasions, he asked "Was that the all-expenses-paid trip to New York?"
"No, it was a box of chocolate mints."
"Oh, maybe it's not a fix, then."
Just after that, inevitably, came the raffle, and my mother was asked to draw all the tickets. I was second to win a prize, and there was a chorus of catcalls; I chose a bottle of Bucks Fizz. My mother then managed to draw three of her own numbers, but declined a prize each time. The evening ended with a sell-off of the leftovers; for 50p you got a plastic bag and could fill it up with anything you liked still on the table. I bagged two big bunches of red grapes and a couple of chunks of cheese.
An hour later Lorna came up to me to say Amanda had phoned the office to apologise to me as she'd already got someone to do the swap; she must have left the card on the board by mistake. So then I had to go and tell Kevin that the swap was off, persuade him that I didn't want to cancel any of my many swaps with Rachel that he happened to be in the middle of processing, be told by Kevin that Paul would have to deal with me, and wait an hour for Paul to come back from wherever he'd disappeared to and explain the situation to him.
The rest of the shift went smoothly enough, though my last interview overran. You're usually pretty safe when you get just one person with 20 minutes of the shift left, but this young lady, while perfectly nice, was a bit on the slow side and had some complicated circumstances - then at the end I had to hang up and call her back a couple of minutes later so she could retrieve the mobile number of her brother, with whom she lives, from her phone.
With my bus missed, I took the opportunity to check my internal e-mails, which I hadn't done yet, and put five extra minutes on my day's pay.
Down to the coffee lounge to check my ordinary e-mail with Home To Roost on ITV3 in the background.
This evening we were guests at a local hospital's League of Friends Cheese and Wine. There was a big varied spread of food, including olives (not many other people were interested in them, so I was able to take a big helping), while the cheeses included my favourite, Emmental. There was, fortunately, orange juice as well as wine; when the men serving the wine asked me "Red or white?" I replied "Orange juice, I'm on antibiotics."
"Bad luck," said the other man. "We thought this'd be your chance to have a few drinks since you're being chauffeur-driven."
"No booze for me till next Wednesday."
"What a shame," the guy smiled, handing me my orange juice.
We spent the evening circling the room talking to elderly ladies, hospital staff and some Rotarians. Chris, a councillor, and his wife Jane, who'd been with us in France, were also there, and Jane quizzed me about future travel plans. One guy asked me a few things about my duties as mayor's consort, and seemed to come away with the impression that life as mayor and consort was one big gravy train. He asked whether we win much on raffles and whether it's a fix; when I told him she has managed to pull one of my numbers out on a couple of occasions, he asked "Was that the all-expenses-paid trip to New York?"
"No, it was a box of chocolate mints."
"Oh, maybe it's not a fix, then."
Just after that, inevitably, came the raffle, and my mother was asked to draw all the tickets. I was second to win a prize, and there was a chorus of catcalls; I chose a bottle of Bucks Fizz. My mother then managed to draw three of her own numbers, but declined a prize each time. The evening ended with a sell-off of the leftovers; for 50p you got a plastic bag and could fill it up with anything you liked still on the table. I bagged two big bunches of red grapes and a couple of chunks of cheese.
