Well, yesterday was largely wasted. As was I. I have no-one to blame but myself and have learned nothing except another lesson in how daft I am.
This morning, after a completely undeserved good night, it was up and at’em early, to the doctor for a statin/dizziness consultation, which went well. Seems my blood pressure has dropped through the floor so at the end of the month I’m to undergo one of those 24 hour blood pressure monitor tests, with a little box strapped to my tummy. Apparently, so the medic said, I’ll not be able to shower while wearing the device. ”Oh, I’m sure I can handle membership of the great unwashed for just 24 hours,” I said. ”Don’t worry. We’ll forgive you,” said the doctor. I think I’m going to like him and that’s a relief after the two less than sympathetic doctors I’ve seen since registering at the surgery in Neath.
Graham came with me so’s he could trot over to the rail station to buy his ticket for London. He’s off for two nights later this week on an aMUSEment trip to the London O2 [previously known as the Millennium Dome].
When we got back the builders next door were in fine form and performing as if to an audience. I pulled out my camera to record their act, whereupon one of them covered his face with his hands and yelled that I wasn’t to show the pictures to anyone for fear of the DHSS seeing them. I don’t honestly think he is a benefit cheat, and wouldn’t much care if he was, but it did make me think how easily we have all slipped without protest or resistance into the Surveillance Society, fearful of being recorded on camera and equally concerned that we may be taking inappropriate pictures. Shame, that. Just now I find the people in my world more picturesque than the world itself. Or, at least, just as interesting.
I wondered why so many photographs I see are empty of people, as though taken in some sterilized, post-apocalyptic world.
