Tuesday 3rd November 2020
This time I made it to the warehouse task. I'd been to the Doctor for 16:00, and he said he would have syringed my ear, if it wasn't for the virus. No idea why he can't syringe it anyway.
But having gone out on my bike, I decided to carry on straight to the warehouse, taking a leisurely route. I went through the Olympic park and ended up on the River Lea which would have been a lovely route by day, but at night was more difficult than the Regent's Canal, with sudden slopes invisible in the pitch dark.
Near the warehouse it was impossible to avoid the horrendous A12 heading for the Blackwall Tunnel. I got half an hour early to the street where the warehouse is, so went to look for a cafe and to investigate other routes, but the East India Dock Road looked just as busy as the A12.
There was no cafe so I made do with crisps from a small shop, then realised as I left that they stocked flapjacks, so I got one of those as well. I went back to the road where the warehouse is, and surprisingly found a little cafe there, so I got a brownie and an espresso. Then I initially rode past the warehouse so was actually late getting there. However, conversation might have been limited with a face mask and my bad ear.
I didn't get to talk to Amy, she looked stunning with her hair down, fantastic for 50. I worked with Tracey, and another Amy from Waltham Forest with boring glasses who sounded foreign. Chi helped a bit, he was wearing a big camouflage jacket, which might have worked in a forest, but not in a warehouse.
I used a Henry cleaner to vacuum up bits from the floor while Tracey washed the window sills. She told me Steve had Covid but was recovering. He really wouldn't have taken any risks.
I found you could get across the A12 into a side street but then had to carry the bike over a stepped railway bridge. I lost my bearings but decided to head for Victoria Park, but when I got to Mile End I decided just to go back through the City. I did go the wrong way once so it took over an hour to get home, though Jack hadn't quite finished watching a live virtual comedy show with Andy Saltzman and others. He'd done some pasta.
Earlier I'd helped shovel earth in the back garden of a homeless refuge in Tufnell Park with Sam, Sarah and Rachel. My boss said the others could help with my form applications backlog, which encouraged me to get on and catch up myself next day, as passing them on would be complicated.