Capricci – Bland pizza

Tonight we ordered in pizza from Capricci, via Deliveroo. If in years to come that is meaningless, remember only that in 2016, there was a website called Deliveroo that acted as a middle man between restaurants and people too busy to go out to eat.

Deliveroo is great, as at any time of day or night I can go online and get a man with a motorcycle to bring me fresh pizza.

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Celebrations and commiserations

There’s a celebration (or is it a commemoration) of LKY outside our building this week. The flat we live in is part of the most ginormous public housing project that LKY oversaw, partly, I suppose, to show he could do it. As I stumbled through the crowds of people outside, I thought about telling them about the smell of gas emanating from our washing machine, or the people who seem to spend their time on the building’s Facebook page complaining, but that would be fairly churlish. I was in a bad mood, what with my wonky toe and being tired from work, but you shouldn’t be unnecessarily rude.

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Sleepy time

Last night La Serpiente came into my bedroom at about 2 am, lay down next to me and went to sleep. I vaguely remember this. In my sleep addled state, I hallucinated my wife agreeing with La Serpiente that this was a sensible thing to do, and so I acquiesced with this clear failure of my daughter to respect boundaries and sleep in her own room. On the positive side, she didn’t wake up again until morning. I, on the other hand, slept only fitfully, freezing cold in a room with the air conditioning running (which I couldn’t turn down because otherwise my daughter would sweat too much).

This morning I asked my wife about this and she denied any knowledge or culpability in La Serpiente stealing out of her room and stealing more of my sleep.
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Fun with broken toes

I went to the GP today to see what to do with my toe. I was hoping he’d take one look at it and say "yup, that’s broken, take a few aspirin and it will be right in a week" but instead there began a complicated process of getting me booked in to see a specialist. Did I want to see a specialist? Or could I just go to an X-ray centre on Orchard Road that (possibly) didn’t do X-rays any more, and then go see a specialist after that and have a bit of metal put in my toe? Or go and see the specialist first? Or go to A & E and get it looked at? Or …

I began to feel like there was either too much choice, or I was too dumb to make decisions. Either way, I just wanted somebody to tell me what to do, and leave it at that.
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Business class kids

I didn’t really sleep last night, kept awake worrying that I would oversleep and fail to make it to the airport on time to catch our return flight. I probably shouldn’t have worried; within 15 minutes of our alarm going off, we had packed and got the kids loaded into car seat and safety harness, and were down in the lobby checking out of the hotel. The taxi to the Airport Express took almost no time that early in the morning, and as we had business class tickets there wasn’t even a queue for us to get to the check-in desk.
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Toes, toilets and traditions

Today we had a wedding to go to in the Renaissance Hotel in Hong Kong, and as is traditional for my wife and I, one of us has to arrive with a broken toe. Last time around it was my wife, leaping across the living room in a misguided attempt to stop me putting Marmite on toast, before colliding with the coffee table, and this time it was me, accidentally kicking the bed and then falling to the floor in indescribable, inexplicable pain. (Although careful perusal of my blog shows that I’ve bust other toes in the last 6 years, here and here.

At least when my wife did it, we didn’t have children around to step on our wounded toes.
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Off to Hong Kong

In what may be an intense act of stupidity, to relax this weekend we took the afternoon off to fly to Hong Kong. That meant catching the 4:45 flight, arriving at bedtime (8:15) at the airport and not reaching the hotel until almost ten, well beyond La Serpiente and Destroyer’s usual tolerances forbsleep deprivation. Let them see what it feels like.
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