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My office window looks out onto the ramp that leads to the accessible entrance of our building (the ground floor is set lower than the street and the grass outside, so there are four or five steps down to the door, or a long zig-zagging ramp). When I got back from lunch today, feeling tired and slightly grumpy because I'd had to go into town, which was Too Peopley (it's always Too Peopley, but clearly COVID makes that worse) and with an afternoon of meetings ahead of me, I discovered three small children using the ramp to rollerskate, and, being tired and grumpy, went out to grump that it wasn't a skate park, and people were trying to work in the building. At which the woman who was with them was so apologetic I felt a bit bad for being grumpy (though I still felt it was a reasonable grump).

Of course, it later turned out that they were the children of the new warden of the college accommodation over the road, who came over later on to introduce himself and apologise again, and followed it up with an email. So now I feel rather embarrassed for making a fuss, when it probably wasn't that big a deal anyway, and if I hadn't been feeling tired and grumpy to start with I might have just let it go with a bit of tutting...
white_hart: (Default)
It's not the heat, which I'm currently rather enjoying (though it can definitely be too hot sometimes). It's the people. The ones playing loud music in their back gardens near us, or filling the air with the smell of lighter fuel from their barbecues (or today, burning rubber, so I don't know what they're barbecuing. The handles of their tongs, maybe). The ones thronging our normally quiet swimming spot, in particular the ones who turned up and decided that the spot where we were changing and about to get it was the perfect place to moor their boat, told us that they'd paid for the boat and we hadn't paid to swim when we pointed out that we'd been there first, grudgingly consented to stay bow-in to the bank while we squeezed past and ended up arguing with B who was still finishing changing and was slower that me and L, ending up with the oh-so-devastating comeback of "I bet you're not married" (at which I observed that that really was a fucking misogynistic thing to say). No prizes for guessing the gender of our interlocutor. Or whether he had his shirt on or not.

(The water was lovely. I just wish it had been a bit quieter.)

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white_hart

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