There’s loads of people at work wearing a variety of charitable bracelets. You know the ones – Live Strong (yellow), Anti-Racism (black and white intertwined), Anti-Bullying (some other colour) and so on. Thats all well and good, but there’s something about the whole thing that doesn’t sit quite right with me.

The Live Strong ones were a good idea, but then umpteen other charities jumped on the bandwagon and they lost all of their meaning. Its become fashionable to get the latest Nike charity bracelet. In many ways that’s a good thing — after all, it means more income for the charities involved. On the flipside, I think the message has been lost somewhere along the way. There’s so many around now that nobody can remember what they’re all for.

Personally I prefer the alternative route: Get hold of a Live Wrong bracelet (cheers Rich) to antagonise the aforementioned colleagues, and make a donation to my charity of choice. Much more fun.

In no particular order (the player will be in shuffle mode anyway)…

Someone has put up a load of posters at work, with the slogan:

There is nothing you can do
That can’t be done

Is it me, or is there really some sort of stating the obvious thing going on there? That’s just another way of saying “You can do anything that you can do” isn’t it?

Someone was trying to be clever and it went horribly wrong. Or am I being a complete sap and missing something blindingly obvious?

[Based on old Golden Grahams promotional postcard that’s lying around]

People seem to be happy this evening.

I’m happy, because Wiggle are replacing the broken stuff, free of charge, which is nice. Good service makes me happy.

The girl who cleans the office, who is usually miserable, was all happy and smiley this evening. The girl in the shop on the way home was all smiley too. Maybe its because I’m being happy and smiley (though not significantly more than usual), or maybe I’ve got DULLARD tattooed across my forehead or something?

Answers on a postcard…

I used to work for a company based in Eynsham. They moved down the road to Carterton, and I thought that was the end of it — I mean, what possible reason would there be for me to go back to that sleepy little Oxfordshire town? Well, it turns out that the company I work for now has an office in Eynsham too, and I happened to be there yesterday.

Anyway, as I am still lacking a car, I had to get the good old Number 53 bus.

Oh. The memories. Getting up at ludicrous-o-clock in the morning and walking down into town to catch it. Sitting there half asleep as it takes numerous detours from the A40 (all in the name of good service). Being the only one who gets off at Eynsham, and the only one to get on there again in the afternoon. The bus nearly carrying on past you because the bus-stop at the Evenlode isn’t lit up. I’d forgotten just how long it takes, compared to the driving.

This, along with my other recent public transport experiences, and the fact there isn’t a supermarket within walking distance of here, means I’m seriously looking into getting a car. Mind you, I’ve said that before and never managed to get anywhere. Bloody lethargy…

Coined by Mr. Owen Clay earlier today, it can mean either “Frustratingly Infuriating” or “Infuriatingly Frustrating”. The choice is entirely yours.