Mondays

My working (half) week is finished. 

Did it end with. roar or a whimper?

I am not sure. 

I wrote a snotty letter to the chief executive of a government body telling her to sort out her underlings, such that they do not make the Boss wait 7 weeks (and counting) for a response on a simple question. 

I wrote an obsequious letter to a Cabinet Secretary suggesting the current procedure for investigating certain things is not fit for purpose, and might he consider changing it? His staff will get a laugh, and I will get a "nice try, but get lost" response. 

I called in to the Office to collect something I left there yesterday, to find one of my colleagues having a meltdown on the phone to the Manager. She had been threatened on the phone by a constituent who does not want to be vaccinated, but does want to spread the virus around as much as he likes. I am insulated from these nutters by having the weekend shift in the Office.

Well, I talked her down a bit more after she had got the first wave of hysteria off her chest and onto the Manager's. 

Now then, the Blip...

Making pumpkin soup is on tomorrow's agenda. Yes, I really know how to live. The recipe calls for white wine. This means a choice between pinot grigio and sauvignon blanc. 

Thoughts in the comments below, please.   

As I pondered my dilemma I decided to open one of the bottles and have a glass. Shortly after that I realised it was bedtime already. Ach well, tomorrow is Tuesday.