Wednesday 18th March 2020

35 years ago, I joined the working week and started the long journey to become an adult. A journey I have yet to complete, but I still think there is time.

Anyway, one late winter morning, 18th March 1985, I drove to Beccles to pick up the coach to Flixton, to the chicken factory. We new starters were given coveralls, boots and a hard hat. And a clock card, and I was taken to a stool in the whole bird room, my task was to turn the wings over on chickens hanging from shackles not colour coded. A basic tannoy system played Radio 1, via medium wave, and it sounded dreadful, but it was that or nothing. We chose the music, even when Simon Bates came on.

I did that all day. And all day the next. And all week in fact. And all of the next week.

At the end of each day I could barely move my hands due to RSI. After the second week, I waited in line and was given my first pay slip; that made it worthwhile.

I see from Facebook that some of my old friends work there. Me, in the meantime have served my country, travelled the world and now help the world to run on clean energy. Marks and Spencer's loss was Mother Earth's gain.

Yesterday, I woke up at ten pat four, and I knew there was something wrong.

Gout.

Gout is caused by the backlog of some crystals or the other, and this was my second, mild, event. The first was just before Jools' 50th birthday in 2012. It feels like you have broken your toe, the pressure of the duvet is almost unbearable. But I knew what it was and how to cure it. Once the alarm went off at half five, I drank and drank and drank. Three litres by eight, and the effects had subsided so much I could go on the cross trainer for another session.

And I was all sitting own in front of the work computer at half seven for the new daily update team briefings. And what is this? MS Teams? What fresh hell is this? Seems it has half the bandwidth as Skype and it is being rolled out quick as more and more of us are working from home.

They ask me how the UK is coping. I tell them we have Boris Johnson, but don't have Trump in charge. That about covers it. And schools were still open. They couldn't believe it. Denmark is under lockdown, and they are a little bit frustrated, but see the bigger picture.

Anyway. Once the meeting was done I could go an make a second coffee and make breakfast.

I tell myself my trousers are getting loser, not sure sometimes, but most of the time it seems that way.

I get down to work, writing the new Manual, which is right up my particular area of expertise. I am really enjoying the task.

Don't make me a freak, right?

Anyway, I make toasted cheese and corned beef sandwiches for lunch, as, well, its a king among sandwiches, and an invention of my very own.

The day progresses. I do another session on the cross trainer. Have a shower.

One final check on the work mails and I pack away, make shoarma chicken and fried potatoes for dinner. Another fine meal.

And that was that.

We play Uckers in the evening, in the absence of any football, and Jools wins again by two pieces.