Remember the lift in Hitch Hiker's that didn't want to go up? Ours at work is a bit like that, only without the excuse of being psychic. It has an incredibly strong attachment to the ground floor - or even better, if it can manage it, the basement. Which is fine when I'm on the ground floor and wish to ascend to the fourth, where I work, but less great when I want to reverse the procedure. This afternoon I pressed the button, lift on ground floor, display creeps unwillingly up, wait, wait, display reaches 3, I realise I haven't got my jacket and go back for it, return to find lift has buggered off and is lurking on G again.
What with the lift and all, it's been an exerciseful couple of days. I went swimming last night, which I hadn't done since they discovered asbestos in the ceiling of our local pool and closed it down. I had forgotten in the interim - I always do - what a complete goofus I look in my poolside attire.
I am ridiculously short-sighted, so to prevent Beano-style misadventures like somersaulting off the high board into an empty pool, or blundering into the men's changing-room (guess which of these events has actually happened) I have special prescription goggles. Being designed to correct one's vision rather than to Olympic standards, they're not a lot of use as goggles per se: they mist up and leak. So I tend to wear them only when I'm waddling around the changing-room and need to read my locker number, and to find my way to the pool rather than into the showers. I can almost hear people wondering why I need goggles when I'm not actually submerged.
Then swimming day always coincides with Embarrassing Knickers Day - in this case the pair designed for teenage boys with the slogan 'Jungle Patrol' on the front, which I found oh so hilarious at point of sale.
All that and karate too. This evening we learned the Pigeon-Toed Stance, in which the feet are turned in, the knees bent and the general impression given is 'I really need the loo but I'm going to beat you up first'.