I just got home from helping my dad deliver newspapers around the local area, and we managed to do quite well when it came to delivering the local newspapers. Me and my dad were both exhausted by the time we decided to finish after two and a half hours, by which time it was 6pm and the sun was setting. At times, we managed to deliver between 150 to 200 per hour. By 5:07pm we had delivered 322 newspapers, and 50 minutes later, that total had increased to 401. We packed in for the day around fifteen minutes later, by which time we had managed to deliver 422 newspapers today, which is 16.88% of the 2,500 newspapers we had started out with. While I was delivering on one side of a road [while my dad was delivering newspapers on the other side of the road] I had walked down a long driveway to post a newspaper into a letterbox when I came across a vintage car several decades old which had Californian number plates. I have absolutely no idea the make or model of the car in question, but I know the car is from before World War II.
My dad said that because the the clocks go forward tomorrow morning and British Summer Time starts, [1am to be precise, which is less than five hours from now] he said we could aim to deliver up to 700 newspapers tomorrow. My feet don’t look forward to that, because after a round of delivering, my feet are always aching for at least an hour afterwards. My shoulder doesn’t seem to ache as much anymore when I have a yellow bag full of newspapers over my shoulder. I also spotted at least three cats today while I was delivering newspapers, and those psychopathic balls of fur hell-bent on the subjugation of humanity and probably any other sentient species out there in the universe all ignored me, unsurprisingly. I ignored them as well, as I wanted to finish the job as soon as I could while still doing it properly. They didn’t plot my murder though, they just ignored me as those cats had never seen me before.