Sometimes my daily routine floods me with guilt. Guilt for the impact I’m having on the environment. I spent seven years working in the sector, bossing (yes ‘bossing’ – I know, hard to believe eh?) people around because I wanted everyone to sit up and listen. I’d tell them to recycle because in the UK we produce enough waste to fill the Albert Hall every two hours. I’d run around switching lights off after everyone and chastising people if they didn’t turn their computer off after a day’s work. For those seven years, I was told that the tipping point was coming – the point when the detrimental impact of human society on the planet would reach the point of no return. I would get upset because people couldn’t see beyond today. I left that job. I left it because I felt helpless.
These days I still boss people around and harp on about the penguins, polar bears and climate change – people think I’m odd. I also carry a lot of guilt around because my daily routine still leaves a massive footprint!
I haven’t combined a cartoon and a photograph for a while, but today while I was mulling over what to do for my 365 photography project I decided that the image needed something to fill the white space.
For those of you that know me, I’m not much of a hiker nor do I like to be far from my bed beyond 10pm. I’m quite happy to do a 6 or 7 miles stroll in the Peak District before I’m ready to put my feet up, have a cup of tea and a piece of cake. Anything more and I tend to grumble.
Well, despite my love of sleep and fear of long walks, I signed up for a sponsored nigh walk for St Luke’s Hospice (13 miles) – which, being in Sheffield, involved numerous hills. 1000 people signed up, many whom had lost loved ones and benefited from the support and care of the charity. It was a great night and I’m glad to have helped raise money. Today however, I’m nursing an aching body and have ventured no further than the sofa except to make tea and watch some fantastic Rugby (Australia Vs Scotland).
I don’t like asking for money, but if you would like to donate to St. Luke’s, you still can by visiting my Just Giving page.
There’s been a mouse infestation at work which has brought drama and excitement to the office. One moment we were happily tapping away at our keyboards, the next there were yelps and squeals as a mouse the size of a 10p piece ran across the floor. Mayhem ensued – people were either rushing away from the mouse or towards it in an attempt to capture or kill it. Plots to capture it alive and take it to countryside were hatched. Excuses to work in another building were put forward. There were discussions about wearing wellies to work. From all of this, I observed three distinct camps and have drawn them for your entertainment!
1. The exterminators
2. The Musophobes
3. The R.S.P.M
The kitchen at work is tiny. There’s an unwritten ‘cat swinging’ rule which stipulates one must NOT swing one’s cat, unless of course you no longer want it.
Peak times in the kitchen are challenging. The first hurdle is how many people dare to enter at the same time? Most people will stop at 5, which is far too many in my opinion. The hot water boiler is located on one side of the kitchen and the fridge on the other, which means there’s a high degree of toing and froing and an increased risk of scalding someone as you manoeuvre your coffee from one side to the other. The coffee-making flow is interrupted when more than one person is in the kitchen, but when there are five caffeine starved people, it’s like one of those sliding puzzles… or indeed an intricate modern dance!
There’s a gin festival in Sheffield this weekend. I took part last night. It went something like this…