There’s a defrosting ready meal in my backpack and I’ve just choked on plastic tasting water. It’s a Tuesday lunch time and (although I won’t have my lunch until around 17:30 when I’ve got a gap) I set about making dozens of others.
On this round I have to walk through a park to my next call, which would be nice if I didn’t have black tight work trousers on and an already sweaty bright coloured tunic on. Number 29 wishes me a good afternoon and I head out, beginning the half an hour walk I have a ten minute slot for. I’m convinced I smell of boiled egg after making her lunch and drown myself in the perfume I got for Christmas that has taken the name of ‘at work smell’.
As I limp on towards the main road I go over who I’ll be seeing when I get on site, I’m here until 8 tonight so I’m going to nearly everyone we do care for in the village. I feel slightly glad I failed my driving test again today as I watch the traffic build up, I won’t be sat in that for a while yet. I make it into the village 15 minutes late and am welcomed by the familiar smells of the restaurant. I’m greeted by all the usual faces and we chat about our day so far, some laughing that they can’t remember what they’ve just had to eat but assured me that they liked it. I catch the eye of my next customer and she folds up her paper, ready to head home and have a coffee.
I hope you enjoyed this little snippet of a day in June, I think back on days like this quite often and naturally write in my head in a story-like way so this was easy for my to tap into my phone as I walked around.