Friday, 18 April 2014

Dreemy and the Deathtracker

Events have run away with me and there is too much to tell. Since my temporary contract ran out I've been binge-working. Working on the nurse bank, you never know when there'll be work and when there won't. As it happens, there has been work and I've been doing it. I've done several 13 hour days and 2 night shifts, and some other more ordinary days in between. So I've been running, but not blogging.

I've been quite pleased at the way things have been ticking along. On the dissertation front, my forays into emailing American professors has borne fruit. I now have a book called 'The psychology of running' from 1981 with contributions from Vic Altshul, who I emailed initially, and also from his friend Thaddeus Kostrubala, who Vic urged me to also contact. Thaddeus has also been a psychiatrist and is convinced of the therapeutic benefits of running. He was very warm when I contacted him and I have an open invitation to contact him to discuss the subject. But I've not had time to give it the attention I want to, because, as I say, I've been working.

Apparently there was a lunar eclipse of the full moon on Tuesday and that may or may not have been responsible for my rather dramatic day.

The morning found me setting out in a Black Corsa with a consultant psychiatrist to assess someone in the community to see if they needed to come into hospital. Fate had other ideas though. I over shot the road we were going to turn left into so I drove further and was in the process of taking a right off of Lindsay Road on a filter arrow when the Dr drew my attention to the black car coming right at us. I braked as quickly as I could but not soon enough to prevent an impact taking place. I assume the 84 year old lady who ploughed gently into the side of our bonnet drove through a red light. She didn't think so, though, she thought it was green. So suddenly we were in the middle of the road and our engine had kind of burst out of the bonnet and our radiator had drained out onto the road. Her car looked less damaged, and she happily, was undamaged as well. So there we were, stood in the middle of the road, waiting for the police to come. The Doc reminded me of no-one more than the fixer in pulp fiction. He was on the phone to everyone and pretty soon had a tow truck coming, knew our insurance details and had two more nurses in two separate cars, one to take him onto his destination and one to pick me up once I'd seen the poor Corsa onto the tow truck and off, as it turned out, to its final destination.
As the driver the police had to ask me certain questions and so it was I found myself being breathalised by the side of the road, in front of a primary school. It wasn't even noon yet. I hadn't actually had a drink that morning so I passed the test.
As you can imagine I had a kind of mad adrenaline rush going on so it was all I could do not to say to the police "Oh no, not THIS again!" But I kept my lip buttoned. Actually they were very nice.

On my way home from work on my bike a child walked out in front of me while looking the other way. I got stopped in time but I did feel like I was going inside for the rest of the day and not coming out. The world was just too dangerous and unpredictable. But then when I got home I discovered I had an interview for that job I've been wanting a week on Friday, So then I was elated and fixed all my attention on that instead.
I have been reading some cracking 105 page reports from the Scottish Government in preparation. But today I'm taking a bit of a break to blog.

The Berlingo's radiator has had a slow leak for about 6 weeks now, so today I bit the bullet and put it into the garage and then went a run down the road to North Berwick in preparation for the E2NB race in 2 weeks time. I was hopeful it was just a leak in the hose or something.

The run went very well indeed. Except I seemed to have my death tracker on. At the entrance to Prestonpans there was a dead rat, laid out like a Welcome Mat. Impressive.

I met Peter briefly as he'd taken the train to Longniddry and was heading out for many miles in the heart of East Lothian. We ran from Aberlady to where the path goes down to the beach, and then parted company. I had business in Gullane. Eaty business. I had formed a desire for a salty pretzl and a black coffee, and planned to satisfy this desire come Falko's. On the way along the road I came across a poor deer lying stiffly on its side with its tongue sticking out.

New life was burgeoning everywhere but I was only moved to stop and take a photo for the dead things. Maybe something to do with The Festival of Chocolate which is going on today. So called Good Friday.

I assume the Christians were thinking along the lines of the recent(ish) trend of calling things by their opposite. Like saying things are 'bad' and 'fat'. Otherwise I can't see how it's Good Friday. I've accidentally called it Black Friday and Bad Friday before but always get corrected.

Anyway, I got the last pretzl in Falko's and a lovely black coffee. It was as good as I hoped it would be. I liked it better than eating something sickly sweet.

The last 4 miles into North Berwick really flew by as I was on a caffeine high. And I caught the train by 3 minutes. Very good karma. What might not be such good karma was when I went by the Citroen garage the guy who owns it had his head under my bonnet and he was cursing softly. Apparently my radiator is being a nightmare and he's been working on it since I took it in at 8 this morning. I believe him. I'm to phone him in a minute or two and I'm scared to. I'm not even really EMPLOYED at the moment. This isn't such good news.

Anyway. I got some ham and eggs and ate it on toast for lunch - thus illustrating one of Peter's favourite sayings he likes to trot out when I take speculation too far. "If we had eggs, we could have ham and eggs, if we had ham..."
My grandad used to say "How many beans make 5 Mary?" and then laugh. I was never sure what his point was, but I liked it.
Better go and phone about that Berlingo.

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