The Return of The Man
At work, Brendan found my super spreadsheet which I was supposed to look for yesterday. He'd said it was "from a couple of years ago" but was actually 2015-16 - I couldn't even find those old pre-2016 files when I looked on Tuesday and couldn't open that drive today. I'd also missed a message when I was off, asking me to do some procedures. The Top 100 files were working quickly anyway, though it's time to re-set the bloated record files.
At lunchtime we were on our way to Primrose Hill but instead went to "The Man" cafe, as we refer to it, which has just re-opened. Instead of complaining about his costs he'd incurred without income, he said he'd had a nice time looking after his garden at home. We didn't have time for the full meal and I'd already had beans on toast, two sausages and a croissant since 09:30, but I don't prefer their falafel wraps as they contain inappropriate cucumbee. We did had time to stop for another coffee from the Lock, which we drunk at the seats under the new market development.
After 15 consecutive days of volunteering - during which I did 17 tasks - I stayed in for a rest, but I've got used to going out again, and I did wish I was out doing something and being with people. It seemed Jack was bored: he criticised my teeth cleaning style, for not taking my shoes off and for lying on him in the wrong way. I'd watched an old Big Match (1-1 v Charlton), we ate some pies, I tried to catch up with the Guardian and we watched a television programme about the way the Empire has been looked back on since it ended in the 1940s.