[chalky] could you stop calling me poppet? you're reminding me too much of my mum, who has a habit of calling me poppet, despite me clearing six foot.

Work has destroyed my brain to such an extent that last night I dreamt about trying to print a cheque and products sounding like the animal they were designed for, and I keep on thinking I hear the tannoy go 'ping pong', and I freeze in anticipation of "Staff call, 'Nights', contact 257, 'Nights', 257, thank you", implying I've forgotten what time it is, I'm still in the canteen having a smoke and I was meant to be on the shop floor about ten minutes ago. argh, eh?

[penelope] Which was sort of my point. Why do I need so many bloddy clocks? Perhaps I'll adjust some of them with a hammer.

nights] Dreaming you're at work... yeeesh horrible horrible. Is it not enough for employers to steal your waking hours?

[nights] I AM your mum. I'm just pretending I live in Salisbury.

[Rosie] I hypothesise that you won't see this for a bit but I'll post it anyway.
Fantastic news, it really is. The pension/pocket money is a regular thing here but it might be wise to keep a bit of an eye on what she gets. There has been a number of 'shonky' operators of such establishments in this country. Still, if it's a council operated facility then, perhaps, you might not need to worry too much. I mention the last because my mother-in-law, who had a stroke, was confined to a so called 'nursing home' within the precincts of her local hospital. It was truly dreadful. Not the staff - at least not overall - but the facilites and the surroundings. I have the feeling that the only time she could get outside for a bit of sun and fresh air was when my wife or her sister (or me for that matter) visited.
[Chalky] Eee 'eck tha dun arf wurry me times.

I've been dreaming about seventeenth-century Russian religious history recently. Now that's grim.

[Bm] Yes, I keep seeing icons too.