I thought I was hardened to the cold.
The fantastic chill in the morning is too much to handle. I am a wimp.
It's times like this when I realise whoever/whatever invented hibernation had incredible foresight. Unfortunately, not quite enough foresight to foresee the inflexibility of the working week.
work slave : Sir, may I have three months off around the Winter Celebration period?
line manager : [silence]
work slave : [exit stage left, whilst thinking 'whatever']
The plus side of this chilly atmosphere and I'm not referring to The Addicks' opinion on Manchester Utd, is that Plumstead Common looks absolutely beezer. Crisp low morning sunlight, perfect for dazzling drivers right in the minces as they head towards Welling. The Common has a gentle dusting of frost, apart from where the dodgy cars hang out in no man's land. I almost feel compelled to take a dolly mixture tomorrow.
With this cold snap, I couldn't Adam n Eve it. Macoma Road had been gritted. Stone the crows, the council have done something. Not only that, but they'd stickered the illegally sold cars along Plumstead Common Road too. Hoo bloody ray. But no sooner have the rolling death traps been stickered, the dodgy pikeys have crawled out of the gutters and swapped them with other cars. This is the recurring pattern. As sure as day follows night, the pikeys swap cars as soon as they sniff out the council car stickerer. Get with the programme Greenwich, some of us actually pay your council tax. Why not do something for us? These dodgy pikey cars and the dodgy pikey dealers wouldn't know what tax is if it hit them in the face.
The answer's simple. Zero tolerance. Forget stickers. Pick the things up, take them to a breaker's yard and squash the damn things down to a cube of scrap metal.