I usually have to do some sort of date checking at work. Making sure things aren't out of date so we don't accidentally sell them and get sued for millions. This evening, I got it a bit wrong.. I thought it was the 1st August, (making things that were 31st July out of date), but of course it wasn't. This meant I took out everything that was dated the 31st which meant all of the sandwiches and what felt like everything else.. Luckily I realised, but it meant precious time wasted and I wasn't too happy with myself.. I managed to get more done than usual however, which was strange, and I came home, looking forward to cricket later... Oh no, wait, we don't have a game! Sad times..
Still, this left me with the whole night to get annoyed at The Wall, with only the darkness of sleep to look forward to later.. At least I have cricket to look forward to tomorrow, after the busiest shift of the week..
I've thought a bit recently. I've thought a lot recently, in fact, about refereeing. About whether I actually want to do it.. Do I really want to go out every Saturday afternoon, half tired, to be shouted out by a lot of bad Saturday league footballers, just to get promoted a level I probably won't use anyway.. To be honest, I can't be bothered with pre-season training or matches because at the moment, I'm more bothered about cricket and then when it comes round to it, I just can't be bothered.. I need something to do at the weekend though.. I could emigrate to Australia and play club cricket over there during their Summer! Not a bad idea that..
Also, I need a new challenge. I can sense part of me becoming bored with the monotony of the same old routine every night and part of me wants to become normal again. It's OK during the week, when everyone else is at work and you're the one with the time off but come the weekend, when everyone is partying and you're at work serving the party people, it's tough. Very tough. I am still searching, half-heartedly, for a different job but I'm figuring I may step up the search and try harder.
Or maybe I can't be bothered.
Cya x
Saturday 31 July 2010
Friday 30 July 2010
Zoom
Yesterday, I was going on all the rides possible at one of the UK's major theme parks and today I must face the agony of going back to work with The Wall, with no cricket to look forward to tomorrow.. I am not a happy Mitten..
I was yesterday though. Despite having to get up at ridiculous o'clock, we went to Alton Towers, with it's new ride and old classics. The new ride, Thirteen, (with the number 13 somewhere in it's name, but I don't know where) was pretty poor and the rest were fairly great!
I can't talk for long.. My Dad has installed some new security thing that decides to crash my computer every 30 minutes. His latest attempt to strangle the infinite amount of viruses I have, but instead making the job worse..
I'm going now in fact, it took me 35 minutes to type just that.. And now I must go and face The Wall..
Ciao x
I was yesterday though. Despite having to get up at ridiculous o'clock, we went to Alton Towers, with it's new ride and old classics. The new ride, Thirteen, (with the number 13 somewhere in it's name, but I don't know where) was pretty poor and the rest were fairly great!
I can't talk for long.. My Dad has installed some new security thing that decides to crash my computer every 30 minutes. His latest attempt to strangle the infinite amount of viruses I have, but instead making the job worse..
I'm going now in fact, it took me 35 minutes to type just that.. And now I must go and face The Wall..
Ciao x
Wednesday 28 July 2010
Looking Back
I've been looking back a bit today. Especially the last few years, at where it all went wrong. I wasn't being unhappy or depressed about it. I just thought, "it's done and in the past".
I used to be a good kid. Fairly well behaved, most of the time. I still am. I performed well at school, building good friendships while being polite and friendly. All was gravy. I had a bright future ahead of me and everyone kept telling me so and it was all fine. I turned 18 though and this is when it started to go downhill..
I started to drink. Ha, I joke. Well, I did start to drink but not to oblivion. I didn't become an alcoholic, even if a few people do say otherwise! But the education started to hit me. It became too difficult to juggle work and pleasure and I became dragged into depression before I had to do anything to fight against it. Work made me depressed, so it naturally happened, I refused to do it. To avoid sadness. No education, at the most vital of times means very little to show for 13 years of schooling. All was not lost.
I went on the job hunt. I can't remember if I've told you the story of the Marketing trip to Birmingham. I shall tell you it anyway.
It was my first ever job interview. I had applied for a trainee marketing position for a company in Luton. I was absolutely terrified. The first interview didn't last very long at all. I had travelled for 45 minutes for a 5 minute chat with a very executive looking person. I left in a bit of a daze, sweating from head to toe, but anticipating a positive phone call later in the evening confirming whether I had made it through to the next stage. By the time I got home, I only had to wait 10 minutes or so for that phone call..
"Hi Thomas. It's (name) from (name of company). Yeah, OK, I don't remember the names.. He went on to congratulate me for getting through to the 2nd stage of the interview which would happen the next day. He said nothing else, but to meet up at the office at 10am the next day and warned that it may be a long one, but, as he said, "You can't be successful in this business if you're not going to put the hours in". He sounded like a sore loser who doesn't like not being successful. I was excited none the less and went to sleep with a smile on my face.
The next day came, quicker than expected, and once again I was on my way to the offices in the back streets of Luton somewhere. I had a strange feeling that the day wasn't going to work out, and if I could go back in time, I wouldn't of got out of bed for what I experienced that day.
For starters, I got lost. I didn't take a SatNav because I was confident that I knew where I was going, having gone there only the day before, however I got lost. I don't know how, but I managed it. I turned up half an hour late, even with the secretaries directions, which wasn't the best of starts. I drove up, parked, with the faces of all the other applicants invited staring at me, wondering "Who is this young wannabe ruining our day?"
I went in, embarrassed, apologised and walked straight back out again. Before apologising some more to other people, I was greeted by an Assistant Manager of some sort. He went through the itinerary for the day and learnt that people would be going all over the country to promote a product of some sort. Sounded exciting. I then learnt I would be driving 4 other people to Birmingham for the day. Not what I was expecting. Especially that I had smashed my back windscreen the day before, reversing into a wheelie bin, and that I wasn't supposed to do motorway driving or open any windows, on a boiling hot Summers day.. I wasn't the most popular person in the group.. Maybe that was the reason they contributed zero pounds to the petrol fund..
It was a very, very long drive up to Birmingham that day.. It only took an hour and a half but conversation was thin on the ground and the occasional small talk was only about the others Undergraduate degrees in this, that or the other and I felt incredibly left out. When we finally got to our destination, I parked in a multi-storey, (funds that would go uncontributed again later in the day), and we walked, once again in relative silence, to our pre-arranged meeting point.
The time was 11.50am.. We had a spot of lunch and then for 9 solid hours, I was ordered to stand in the middle of the city centre and try and poach people to sign up for some charity. For 9 solid hours, me and one other person, stood and coaxed a total of 4 people to sign up for an animal charity, in shirt and tie wearing a fleece of the charity's name, in the boiling 30 degree heat. It was complete torture and my thoughts at the beginning of the day were slowly being confirmed. Not just that, but as I saw others in the group throughout the day talking about the great things that they had done, I realised I had been used as a taxi and nothing else. I was incensed. I didn't want to be involved in a company like that, and to be fair, I probably wasn't going to get invited to be a part of it at all.
I drove home, windows open, (and for an hour of the journey with no back windscreen), in anger, dropping people back off in the offices in Luton before driving off into the sunset. I was supposed to wait to see if I had made it through, but I didn't bother. People were probably wondering where the hell I was going, but I didn't care. I never even got a phone call. And luckily I didn't. The only positive of the day was talking to the other person for a brief time because I got the impression she was there for the same reason I was.. She was extremely quiet though and didn't seem to want to engage in conversation.. Maybe she fancied me? Yeah, right! She was rather pretty if I remember rightly.. Otherwise, I just wanted to go home..
Bloody hell, that took some explaining! But it is times like that, that I appreciate the job I have at the moment. It might not be very exciting or career-inducing but the fact of the matter is, 1) I am appreciated and 2) I work with the best people, (except for 95% of the time..) and it'll do. At least I get paid to do it.
If this blog does get published, (I will live in hope!), and you are reading this. Just remember, it's not over till the fat lady sings. Or Madonna.
Cya x
I used to be a good kid. Fairly well behaved, most of the time. I still am. I performed well at school, building good friendships while being polite and friendly. All was gravy. I had a bright future ahead of me and everyone kept telling me so and it was all fine. I turned 18 though and this is when it started to go downhill..
I started to drink. Ha, I joke. Well, I did start to drink but not to oblivion. I didn't become an alcoholic, even if a few people do say otherwise! But the education started to hit me. It became too difficult to juggle work and pleasure and I became dragged into depression before I had to do anything to fight against it. Work made me depressed, so it naturally happened, I refused to do it. To avoid sadness. No education, at the most vital of times means very little to show for 13 years of schooling. All was not lost.
I went on the job hunt. I can't remember if I've told you the story of the Marketing trip to Birmingham. I shall tell you it anyway.
It was my first ever job interview. I had applied for a trainee marketing position for a company in Luton. I was absolutely terrified. The first interview didn't last very long at all. I had travelled for 45 minutes for a 5 minute chat with a very executive looking person. I left in a bit of a daze, sweating from head to toe, but anticipating a positive phone call later in the evening confirming whether I had made it through to the next stage. By the time I got home, I only had to wait 10 minutes or so for that phone call..
"Hi Thomas. It's (name) from (name of company). Yeah, OK, I don't remember the names.. He went on to congratulate me for getting through to the 2nd stage of the interview which would happen the next day. He said nothing else, but to meet up at the office at 10am the next day and warned that it may be a long one, but, as he said, "You can't be successful in this business if you're not going to put the hours in". He sounded like a sore loser who doesn't like not being successful. I was excited none the less and went to sleep with a smile on my face.
The next day came, quicker than expected, and once again I was on my way to the offices in the back streets of Luton somewhere. I had a strange feeling that the day wasn't going to work out, and if I could go back in time, I wouldn't of got out of bed for what I experienced that day.
For starters, I got lost. I didn't take a SatNav because I was confident that I knew where I was going, having gone there only the day before, however I got lost. I don't know how, but I managed it. I turned up half an hour late, even with the secretaries directions, which wasn't the best of starts. I drove up, parked, with the faces of all the other applicants invited staring at me, wondering "Who is this young wannabe ruining our day?"
I went in, embarrassed, apologised and walked straight back out again. Before apologising some more to other people, I was greeted by an Assistant Manager of some sort. He went through the itinerary for the day and learnt that people would be going all over the country to promote a product of some sort. Sounded exciting. I then learnt I would be driving 4 other people to Birmingham for the day. Not what I was expecting. Especially that I had smashed my back windscreen the day before, reversing into a wheelie bin, and that I wasn't supposed to do motorway driving or open any windows, on a boiling hot Summers day.. I wasn't the most popular person in the group.. Maybe that was the reason they contributed zero pounds to the petrol fund..
It was a very, very long drive up to Birmingham that day.. It only took an hour and a half but conversation was thin on the ground and the occasional small talk was only about the others Undergraduate degrees in this, that or the other and I felt incredibly left out. When we finally got to our destination, I parked in a multi-storey, (funds that would go uncontributed again later in the day), and we walked, once again in relative silence, to our pre-arranged meeting point.
The time was 11.50am.. We had a spot of lunch and then for 9 solid hours, I was ordered to stand in the middle of the city centre and try and poach people to sign up for some charity. For 9 solid hours, me and one other person, stood and coaxed a total of 4 people to sign up for an animal charity, in shirt and tie wearing a fleece of the charity's name, in the boiling 30 degree heat. It was complete torture and my thoughts at the beginning of the day were slowly being confirmed. Not just that, but as I saw others in the group throughout the day talking about the great things that they had done, I realised I had been used as a taxi and nothing else. I was incensed. I didn't want to be involved in a company like that, and to be fair, I probably wasn't going to get invited to be a part of it at all.
I drove home, windows open, (and for an hour of the journey with no back windscreen), in anger, dropping people back off in the offices in Luton before driving off into the sunset. I was supposed to wait to see if I had made it through, but I didn't bother. People were probably wondering where the hell I was going, but I didn't care. I never even got a phone call. And luckily I didn't. The only positive of the day was talking to the other person for a brief time because I got the impression she was there for the same reason I was.. She was extremely quiet though and didn't seem to want to engage in conversation.. Maybe she fancied me? Yeah, right! She was rather pretty if I remember rightly.. Otherwise, I just wanted to go home..
Bloody hell, that took some explaining! But it is times like that, that I appreciate the job I have at the moment. It might not be very exciting or career-inducing but the fact of the matter is, 1) I am appreciated and 2) I work with the best people, (except for 95% of the time..) and it'll do. At least I get paid to do it.
If this blog does get published, (I will live in hope!), and you are reading this. Just remember, it's not over till the fat lady sings. Or Madonna.
Cya x
Monday 26 July 2010
The Greatest Sound Of All
I knew I was close.. Feeling the pain, physically and mentally, facing yet another ball from the Pikey End. I don't have long left to get these last few runs to reach a major milestone in my short-lived cricket career. The bowler runs in and pitches it short. I sense my opportunity and go on to the back foot, painfully, and pull it through square leg for my 19th boundary. Straight off the middle of the bat, it felt good. I hear a ripple of applause, getting louder and louder. I had done it. My maiden 100. The greatest sound of all.
The truth of the matter is, it wasn't physically painful, (up until the moment my hamstring went at least) and I have to admit it was one of the least demanding mental innings I've ever played. We were only chasing a minor target of 164 so I was very confident that even if I didn't get a good innings, there were batsmen behind me capable of doing the job. This relaxed me immensely and, matched with some pure filth of bowling, helped me develop a good score early on. By the time I was on about 20, part of me knew this was the time. I felt so good at the crease. They had one good bowler, a left hander, but nothing was getting through me and I hit him for 2 boundaries an over, at least. Before I knew it, I had reached 50 but I barely celebrated. Most of me, the 'new' me, knew that the job was half done and for the first time, ever, I believed I could get a 100. I was getting more and more confident with every shot, even when the bowlers bowled beamers at my nose and hit me on the thigh, lofting shots for 4 with ease.
I was on around 60. I played a solid forward defensive shot and my batting partner called me through for an unexpected quick single. I dashed out of my crease and just before I reached the other end, my hamstring went 'twang' and I pulled up heavily. I had felt it go tight a few overs earlier and knew it was coming. From then on, my attacking play was down to the fact I couldn't do a lot else and I reckon the injury contributed to me getting 102 not out. The fact I had a runner and I could just concentrate on playing shots made things much easier for me. However, the 102 still goes next to my name and the century is all mine.
Nothing can compare to the moment I hit the runs to take me over the mark though. We were close to winning so it was a now or never moment. Hitting the 4 and hearing the applause and suddenly my batting partners and the umpire coming to shake my hand for a fantastic effort, it goes down as one of the top 3 moments of my sporting life. It must have looked like I wasn't hugely fussed but in all honesty, I was amazed. When I started playing the game a few years back, I thought it would take me years to reach my first 50, let alone 100. Now I have a few 50s and the elusive 100 under my belt, the world is my oyster. Just a shame the England test squad was announced that morning..
When I got back to the dressing room, my "not fussed" face must still have been on because a few people said I didn't look hugely happy. The truth was, I was still shocked and it still hasn't sunk in yet. It sounds slightly sad I know, but I have dreamt of getting a 100. Sad. Yeah, I know. But I don't care. The funny thing is, I wasn't even using my own bat. I had broken it in a friendly on Friday, snapped at the splice, so I used Boony's 808. I offered to buy it from him after! But I will just be borrowing it as much as possible from now on..
Strangely, when I got home, I told my parents of the afternoon I had had and my Mum said, "Is that good then?" followed by my Dad's laughter and admitting that he had had a "premonition" that I was going to score a 100 today.. The strangeness and joys of parenting in contrast there!
However, throughout all the joy and happiness of getting this mountain of runs, I had still picked up an injury. I never get injured. I have probably had about 6 injuries in my whole sporting life and I can't cope with it. I don't know how a few friends of mine cope with all the injuries they get. If I end up not playing next weekend at all, I will be severely unhappy. Working, knowing I'm not doing anything later will destroy me. Part of me reckons this injury was karma's way of telling me, "You should have gone to work, so you're not having all the laughs". Then I realise, there's no such thing as karma. Korma on the other hand...
Work was painful tonight. Limping around trying to get everything done and being in agony after a few hours. Of course, after putting most of your weight on the other leg, both legs become painful and it was torture towards the end. However, a small part of me was still smiling as I knew that it was the battle scar from a fantastic afternoon.
This is the reason I love sport. The moments of personal achievement that win your team the match or gain you a personal round of applause and a cheer. For me, there is no better feeling, and for me, today, it was the best feeling of all.
Ciao x
The truth of the matter is, it wasn't physically painful, (up until the moment my hamstring went at least) and I have to admit it was one of the least demanding mental innings I've ever played. We were only chasing a minor target of 164 so I was very confident that even if I didn't get a good innings, there were batsmen behind me capable of doing the job. This relaxed me immensely and, matched with some pure filth of bowling, helped me develop a good score early on. By the time I was on about 20, part of me knew this was the time. I felt so good at the crease. They had one good bowler, a left hander, but nothing was getting through me and I hit him for 2 boundaries an over, at least. Before I knew it, I had reached 50 but I barely celebrated. Most of me, the 'new' me, knew that the job was half done and for the first time, ever, I believed I could get a 100. I was getting more and more confident with every shot, even when the bowlers bowled beamers at my nose and hit me on the thigh, lofting shots for 4 with ease.
I was on around 60. I played a solid forward defensive shot and my batting partner called me through for an unexpected quick single. I dashed out of my crease and just before I reached the other end, my hamstring went 'twang' and I pulled up heavily. I had felt it go tight a few overs earlier and knew it was coming. From then on, my attacking play was down to the fact I couldn't do a lot else and I reckon the injury contributed to me getting 102 not out. The fact I had a runner and I could just concentrate on playing shots made things much easier for me. However, the 102 still goes next to my name and the century is all mine.
Nothing can compare to the moment I hit the runs to take me over the mark though. We were close to winning so it was a now or never moment. Hitting the 4 and hearing the applause and suddenly my batting partners and the umpire coming to shake my hand for a fantastic effort, it goes down as one of the top 3 moments of my sporting life. It must have looked like I wasn't hugely fussed but in all honesty, I was amazed. When I started playing the game a few years back, I thought it would take me years to reach my first 50, let alone 100. Now I have a few 50s and the elusive 100 under my belt, the world is my oyster. Just a shame the England test squad was announced that morning..
When I got back to the dressing room, my "not fussed" face must still have been on because a few people said I didn't look hugely happy. The truth was, I was still shocked and it still hasn't sunk in yet. It sounds slightly sad I know, but I have dreamt of getting a 100. Sad. Yeah, I know. But I don't care. The funny thing is, I wasn't even using my own bat. I had broken it in a friendly on Friday, snapped at the splice, so I used Boony's 808. I offered to buy it from him after! But I will just be borrowing it as much as possible from now on..
Strangely, when I got home, I told my parents of the afternoon I had had and my Mum said, "Is that good then?" followed by my Dad's laughter and admitting that he had had a "premonition" that I was going to score a 100 today.. The strangeness and joys of parenting in contrast there!
However, throughout all the joy and happiness of getting this mountain of runs, I had still picked up an injury. I never get injured. I have probably had about 6 injuries in my whole sporting life and I can't cope with it. I don't know how a few friends of mine cope with all the injuries they get. If I end up not playing next weekend at all, I will be severely unhappy. Working, knowing I'm not doing anything later will destroy me. Part of me reckons this injury was karma's way of telling me, "You should have gone to work, so you're not having all the laughs". Then I realise, there's no such thing as karma. Korma on the other hand...
Work was painful tonight. Limping around trying to get everything done and being in agony after a few hours. Of course, after putting most of your weight on the other leg, both legs become painful and it was torture towards the end. However, a small part of me was still smiling as I knew that it was the battle scar from a fantastic afternoon.
This is the reason I love sport. The moments of personal achievement that win your team the match or gain you a personal round of applause and a cheer. For me, there is no better feeling, and for me, today, it was the best feeling of all.
Ciao x
Saturday 24 July 2010
Sick As A Parrot
The last 30 hours or so have been absolute Hell. Shivering, singing Katy Perry's 'Hot n Cold' and trying to treat a massive headache with what feels like the whole of the UK's imported supply of Nurofen, it's been horrible. It's only the last couple of hours or so that I've started to feel marginally better, however, I'm thinking, rather ambitiously, that I may be able to play a full part in cricket tomorrow. Something I wasn't able to get close to today.
I called in sick yesterday and today. I have to call in a considerable amount of hours early so they can find a replacement and on the deadline, I felt the same as I had done for the last 24 hours. The management, even the one who's a complete legend, didn't seem happy at my decision, but what can a man do? If I can't physically get out of bed for more than 5 minutes without needing to collapse again then how the hell am I expected to work one of, if not, THE busiest shift of the week for 8 hours? I don't like the way that management talk in that situation, because they sound really pedantic and I always get the impression they think I'm lying. I do appreciate they are now 2 short as one other, now former employee, lost his job in the week.
I have nothing else to say as I feel a large headache coming on. I can't stare at the screen for more than 10 minutes.. Congratulations to Beddoe aswell! Took the mantle of the opening batsman incredibly well!
Much love x
I called in sick yesterday and today. I have to call in a considerable amount of hours early so they can find a replacement and on the deadline, I felt the same as I had done for the last 24 hours. The management, even the one who's a complete legend, didn't seem happy at my decision, but what can a man do? If I can't physically get out of bed for more than 5 minutes without needing to collapse again then how the hell am I expected to work one of, if not, THE busiest shift of the week for 8 hours? I don't like the way that management talk in that situation, because they sound really pedantic and I always get the impression they think I'm lying. I do appreciate they are now 2 short as one other, now former employee, lost his job in the week.
I have nothing else to say as I feel a large headache coming on. I can't stare at the screen for more than 10 minutes.. Congratulations to Beddoe aswell! Took the mantle of the opening batsman incredibly well!
Much love x
Thursday 22 July 2010
First Day Blues
On two fronts. This evening saw the return of football training and that of course means the dreaded pre-season. Full of fitness and running and more fitness, it was absolutely exhausting. I don't really need all of that for my playing duties but I took full part as I thought it would help my general fitness for refereeing. My Dad, (or 'Gaffer' as he shall be known as we are talking football), made us do ridiculous exercises topped off by what he called 'Ring of Vomit'.
Basically, there is a 30x30 circle and you're in pairs. One of the pair draws a number, 1 to 12, and runs round the diameter that amount of times. Whilst he is doing this, the other pair has to do a certain thing for the duration. So, Me and Mickey. He draws a number. I don't know what it is yet. I know I have to do squat thrusts but not sure for how long. Mickey sets off and you know what's coming. Yep, 12. Mickey ran 12 circles of 30x30, and for the WHOLE TIME, I was doing squat thrusts. Probably about 5 minutes.. Absolute torture. And to cap it off, I had to run 7 diameters myself soon after.. Apparently, next time, Gaffer is going to make the circle bigger as no one lived up to the name, and literally vomited. It was pure torture.
I did OK in goal in the little 6-a-side match we had after, but seeing as I couldn't feel my legs, I think that was a fairly good effort.
So, by the time we went home, roughly 8.30, I was in ruins. Knowing I had work at 10, for the first time in over a week, I wasn't happy. In fact, I was in a foul mood and drove to work in disgust and in pain. It took me a while to get into the swing of things and to get used to the usual weekly changes that occur and tonight was basically just rubbish. I was expecting it to be. I was glad to clamber into my car, get cramp, then drive home at 06.30. Glad to get cramp? No.
On top of my legs aching and cramping and being ridiculously tired, I have golf later. At least I was supposed to, until my back gave out. It didn't really "give out", but I felt a strong twinge as I was lifting a fairly heavy box in the warehouse, and it has been uncomfortable since. I can't play golf tomorrow which is a blessing really because I desperately need sleep. I've got 3 cricket matches this weekend, (I know... it was only a couple of weeks ago I was only planning to play 1 a week), but this week I will end up playing in 4. I just can't help it. I love the game.
Why am I bothering to talk to you when I'm stupidly tired and need sleep?
Bye x
Basically, there is a 30x30 circle and you're in pairs. One of the pair draws a number, 1 to 12, and runs round the diameter that amount of times. Whilst he is doing this, the other pair has to do a certain thing for the duration. So, Me and Mickey. He draws a number. I don't know what it is yet. I know I have to do squat thrusts but not sure for how long. Mickey sets off and you know what's coming. Yep, 12. Mickey ran 12 circles of 30x30, and for the WHOLE TIME, I was doing squat thrusts. Probably about 5 minutes.. Absolute torture. And to cap it off, I had to run 7 diameters myself soon after.. Apparently, next time, Gaffer is going to make the circle bigger as no one lived up to the name, and literally vomited. It was pure torture.
I did OK in goal in the little 6-a-side match we had after, but seeing as I couldn't feel my legs, I think that was a fairly good effort.
So, by the time we went home, roughly 8.30, I was in ruins. Knowing I had work at 10, for the first time in over a week, I wasn't happy. In fact, I was in a foul mood and drove to work in disgust and in pain. It took me a while to get into the swing of things and to get used to the usual weekly changes that occur and tonight was basically just rubbish. I was expecting it to be. I was glad to clamber into my car, get cramp, then drive home at 06.30. Glad to get cramp? No.
On top of my legs aching and cramping and being ridiculously tired, I have golf later. At least I was supposed to, until my back gave out. It didn't really "give out", but I felt a strong twinge as I was lifting a fairly heavy box in the warehouse, and it has been uncomfortable since. I can't play golf tomorrow which is a blessing really because I desperately need sleep. I've got 3 cricket matches this weekend, (I know... it was only a couple of weeks ago I was only planning to play 1 a week), but this week I will end up playing in 4. I just can't help it. I love the game.
Why am I bothering to talk to you when I'm stupidly tired and need sleep?
Bye x
Tuesday 20 July 2010
Going Down
I hate this time of the week. Tuesday night or Thursday night, I have to stay up the whole night, whilst normal non-nocturnal people drift off to their beds, I have to stay awake to get back in the right sleeping frame of mind for the endeavours of the week ahead. It's a full one this week, starting tomorrow and finishing on the usual slow and boring Sunday night and also the fact I've had 9 days off.. I'm not a happy Mitten at the moment.
However, I'll be trying to elongate my holiday as much as possible by maybe having a cricket training session followed straight away by the start of pre-season training. That's right, football is back on the agenda after a strangely quick summer break. Mowsbury Athletic are back and we're a division higher, aiming for our 3rd straight promotion and maybe another cup win. I just won't celebrate it as vigorously as last season's one.. However, the one bad thing about the re-emergence of the football season is that Winter is approaching. I am never happy during Winter. The cold and miserable days coupled with the early darkness. No one likes it, but for me it takes me back to the dark days. I really am not looking forward to it. Football is the only light. Sport once again...
Back to tonight though, attempting to be less controversial than yesterday's post, I'm thinking I may have another 3-part movie marathon but for that, I need food. I've told myself I'm gonna hold back on the spending this month because I owe Mother Mitten some hefty pounds and I can't go buying crap and wasting it.
I can't think of anything positive at the moment.. Trying to not let my mind drag back to the dark days..
*3 hours later*
I just had a look outside. It's deathly black with a tinge of red. It will be like this at 4pm in a few months time..
But maybe it's time I did something about this ... Maybe I should just go for it...?
However, I'll be trying to elongate my holiday as much as possible by maybe having a cricket training session followed straight away by the start of pre-season training. That's right, football is back on the agenda after a strangely quick summer break. Mowsbury Athletic are back and we're a division higher, aiming for our 3rd straight promotion and maybe another cup win. I just won't celebrate it as vigorously as last season's one.. However, the one bad thing about the re-emergence of the football season is that Winter is approaching. I am never happy during Winter. The cold and miserable days coupled with the early darkness. No one likes it, but for me it takes me back to the dark days. I really am not looking forward to it. Football is the only light. Sport once again...
Back to tonight though, attempting to be less controversial than yesterday's post, I'm thinking I may have another 3-part movie marathon but for that, I need food. I've told myself I'm gonna hold back on the spending this month because I owe Mother Mitten some hefty pounds and I can't go buying crap and wasting it.
I can't think of anything positive at the moment.. Trying to not let my mind drag back to the dark days..
*3 hours later*
I just had a look outside. It's deathly black with a tinge of red. It will be like this at 4pm in a few months time..
But maybe it's time I did something about this ... Maybe I should just go for it...?
Monday 19 July 2010
Crazy Golf
There is only one way to describe the weekend I have just experienced... In fact, there's 2. Good. Just good. And also, slightly awkward. (I will not vandalise this blog with a ridiculous word I could of used..)
We'll start with the reason we went on holiday in the first place. The golf. This 18-hole course, situated fairly near the sea, was a bit blowy and the first 9 holes were fairly simple. Short holes with the occasional longy thrown in and it was going OK. The Friday round, where it was extremely windy and a bit drizzly, made us look a bit stupid or made us look as if we were playing at St Andrews. The front 9 that day went OK, but the back 9 was a different proposition. Full of holes with amazing hills and drops and picturesque views, there were a few holes that really surprised me. Take the 13th. A 148-yard par 3, usually an 8-iron, but this hole had a huge valley in the middle of it. After I had taken my shot, I managed to fall down the steep path with my trolley and then managed to fall up the consuing slope.. Amazing.. The Saturday and Sunday rounds went much better, with the weather set perfect, I really enjoyed the experience and I got used to the holes and scored much better scores.
My only concern with the golf were, I'm afraid to say, my playing partners. 3 of them, one of which was fine if his usual quiet self, seemed to be more interested in getting smashed rather than playing and didn't seem bothered some of the time. Beddoe laughed at others when he was playing well and others weren't, then turned moody when the tables turned and Colin went from being "on it" to "not fussed" every other hole. Adam was fine. As usual. But the contradiction on the golf course annoyed me to levels that I wouldn't usually expect. The etiquette was useless aswell, from the same suspects, and that annoyed me aswell. I know, I'm turning into an old man. But a bit of manners goes a long way.
The problem was the same in the hotel. Hilton Avisford Park Hotel, a posh 4-star, so a bit of upper-classiness would of been useful. First night, dinner. I went down in a shirt and shoes, albeit with jeans, and Beddoe comes with his iPhone and trainers. When you're in a posh restaurant, the last thing you want to wear is trainers. Then he decided to get a bottle of mineral water, thinking it was free, when obviously it wouldn't be. £4.50. Pure brilliance from him. Then his fussy self decided he didn't like anything but the chicken. Was slightly awkward and I think the waiters and bar staff knew it. They all seemed to look like a celebrity though. The main waiter person was a lookalike of Colin Murray, the Radio 1 DJ and BBC TV presenter. Another one looked like Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter and another one looked like the Turkish footballer, Emre. A strange mix of people for a strange, and posh place.
The food in this place, however, was exquisite. I'm not used to posh dining, I'm more the Burger King and M&S sandwiches person, but the food here was amazing. Ok, I stuck to the salmon, (don't laugh!), but only because it was phenomonal. The staff were a bit slow, as my Mum had pointed out before I left, but otherwise, superb. The rooms also, with their widescreen TV's to watch that Saffie win the Open and a fantastic documentary on Brian Clough last night and comfortable beds were also worth every penny. Usually, after a holiday, (admittedly the last one was a long time ago), I'm happy to sleep in my own bed after a week, but these beds were so nice, that tonight is going to be like sleeping on concrete..
Ok. The nightlife. As I stated earlier, I reckon these were the parts that the others were looking forward to most, unlike me. On Thursday night, we stayed in Brighton before making our journey to Arundel the following day. I was tired following the drive down earlier and I knew I had to drive again tomorrow. I was always going to take it easy. Hardly drinking at all and not staying out for very long. I am still recovering from that ghastly night 3 months ago aswell.. Obviously though, Beddoe clearly didn't understand and got moody when I decided to call it a day. Being sarcastic and the like, it annoyed me, like other things, but at the time I wasn't that fussed. I was incredibly tired and all I could hear was my bed on Floor 2. Sleep was needed.
I was fresh as a daisy on Friday morning, surrounded by groggy friends, the golf later was ours! They had recovered by then though. We didn't go out on Friday night, for some reason ... can't remember why, but Saturday night was a different story...
We had just finished our 2nd round of golf for the weekend. We had re-arranged dinner to 7pm to give ourselves enough time. Dinner was taken care of, in another awkward and ungentlemanly fashion and we were ready to go. Brighton here we come. Of course, we forget to take into account how much transport would cost. It was way too expensive.. Our night was heading towards ruins. Up until, one of the waiters, (Emre I think it was), told us about a place called Bognor Regis. I had heard of it before, but I never thought of it as a huge place with loads of clubs and to be honest, it sounds like a bit of a farm.. Still, what could go wrong? We got a cheap-ish cab down there and went to their only bar. It was fairly busy and I had a few JD and cokes, double it up for £1 extra, you can't go wrong. I had told myself I was being paid to party so let's go as mad as I dared. Obviously, I got drunk very quickly having gone back to my lightweight days and then we moved on to their one and only club. Because it was their only club, it was rather busy and it turned into a good night. Beddoe worked his magic and everyone was happy. The antics at the end, I shall put down to drunkenness and also probably me being tired and wanting to go to sleep. No one shall take the blame.
Sunday was a bit of an anti-climax. Everyone a bit rough and towards the end of the 3rd round of golf in 3 days, just a bit tired. I failed to get my first birdie of the weekend, the course was that tough and we went back to the hotel. Our final day. Sad times.
Except it wasn't. We decided to elongate the holiday by spending today in sunny and boiling Brighton and it was good. We went in the sea and laughed at some girls who screamed at the prospect of seeing fish and I shouted, "Fish in the sea?! Nooo!", and got a few evils back.. Mwahaha! Funny times...
Overall, it was a very good weekend. I knew there were going to be points where people got a bit annoyed and egos clashed but to be honest, it was less than I expected. I think we're already organising next month's exploits... Oh dear..
Ciao x
We'll start with the reason we went on holiday in the first place. The golf. This 18-hole course, situated fairly near the sea, was a bit blowy and the first 9 holes were fairly simple. Short holes with the occasional longy thrown in and it was going OK. The Friday round, where it was extremely windy and a bit drizzly, made us look a bit stupid or made us look as if we were playing at St Andrews. The front 9 that day went OK, but the back 9 was a different proposition. Full of holes with amazing hills and drops and picturesque views, there were a few holes that really surprised me. Take the 13th. A 148-yard par 3, usually an 8-iron, but this hole had a huge valley in the middle of it. After I had taken my shot, I managed to fall down the steep path with my trolley and then managed to fall up the consuing slope.. Amazing.. The Saturday and Sunday rounds went much better, with the weather set perfect, I really enjoyed the experience and I got used to the holes and scored much better scores.
My only concern with the golf were, I'm afraid to say, my playing partners. 3 of them, one of which was fine if his usual quiet self, seemed to be more interested in getting smashed rather than playing and didn't seem bothered some of the time. Beddoe laughed at others when he was playing well and others weren't, then turned moody when the tables turned and Colin went from being "on it" to "not fussed" every other hole. Adam was fine. As usual. But the contradiction on the golf course annoyed me to levels that I wouldn't usually expect. The etiquette was useless aswell, from the same suspects, and that annoyed me aswell. I know, I'm turning into an old man. But a bit of manners goes a long way.
The problem was the same in the hotel. Hilton Avisford Park Hotel, a posh 4-star, so a bit of upper-classiness would of been useful. First night, dinner. I went down in a shirt and shoes, albeit with jeans, and Beddoe comes with his iPhone and trainers. When you're in a posh restaurant, the last thing you want to wear is trainers. Then he decided to get a bottle of mineral water, thinking it was free, when obviously it wouldn't be. £4.50. Pure brilliance from him. Then his fussy self decided he didn't like anything but the chicken. Was slightly awkward and I think the waiters and bar staff knew it. They all seemed to look like a celebrity though. The main waiter person was a lookalike of Colin Murray, the Radio 1 DJ and BBC TV presenter. Another one looked like Draco Malfoy from Harry Potter and another one looked like the Turkish footballer, Emre. A strange mix of people for a strange, and posh place.
The food in this place, however, was exquisite. I'm not used to posh dining, I'm more the Burger King and M&S sandwiches person, but the food here was amazing. Ok, I stuck to the salmon, (don't laugh!), but only because it was phenomonal. The staff were a bit slow, as my Mum had pointed out before I left, but otherwise, superb. The rooms also, with their widescreen TV's to watch that Saffie win the Open and a fantastic documentary on Brian Clough last night and comfortable beds were also worth every penny. Usually, after a holiday, (admittedly the last one was a long time ago), I'm happy to sleep in my own bed after a week, but these beds were so nice, that tonight is going to be like sleeping on concrete..
Ok. The nightlife. As I stated earlier, I reckon these were the parts that the others were looking forward to most, unlike me. On Thursday night, we stayed in Brighton before making our journey to Arundel the following day. I was tired following the drive down earlier and I knew I had to drive again tomorrow. I was always going to take it easy. Hardly drinking at all and not staying out for very long. I am still recovering from that ghastly night 3 months ago aswell.. Obviously though, Beddoe clearly didn't understand and got moody when I decided to call it a day. Being sarcastic and the like, it annoyed me, like other things, but at the time I wasn't that fussed. I was incredibly tired and all I could hear was my bed on Floor 2. Sleep was needed.
I was fresh as a daisy on Friday morning, surrounded by groggy friends, the golf later was ours! They had recovered by then though. We didn't go out on Friday night, for some reason ... can't remember why, but Saturday night was a different story...
We had just finished our 2nd round of golf for the weekend. We had re-arranged dinner to 7pm to give ourselves enough time. Dinner was taken care of, in another awkward and ungentlemanly fashion and we were ready to go. Brighton here we come. Of course, we forget to take into account how much transport would cost. It was way too expensive.. Our night was heading towards ruins. Up until, one of the waiters, (Emre I think it was), told us about a place called Bognor Regis. I had heard of it before, but I never thought of it as a huge place with loads of clubs and to be honest, it sounds like a bit of a farm.. Still, what could go wrong? We got a cheap-ish cab down there and went to their only bar. It was fairly busy and I had a few JD and cokes, double it up for £1 extra, you can't go wrong. I had told myself I was being paid to party so let's go as mad as I dared. Obviously, I got drunk very quickly having gone back to my lightweight days and then we moved on to their one and only club. Because it was their only club, it was rather busy and it turned into a good night. Beddoe worked his magic and everyone was happy. The antics at the end, I shall put down to drunkenness and also probably me being tired and wanting to go to sleep. No one shall take the blame.
Sunday was a bit of an anti-climax. Everyone a bit rough and towards the end of the 3rd round of golf in 3 days, just a bit tired. I failed to get my first birdie of the weekend, the course was that tough and we went back to the hotel. Our final day. Sad times.
Except it wasn't. We decided to elongate the holiday by spending today in sunny and boiling Brighton and it was good. We went in the sea and laughed at some girls who screamed at the prospect of seeing fish and I shouted, "Fish in the sea?! Nooo!", and got a few evils back.. Mwahaha! Funny times...
Overall, it was a very good weekend. I knew there were going to be points where people got a bit annoyed and egos clashed but to be honest, it was less than I expected. I think we're already organising next month's exploits... Oh dear..
Ciao x
Thursday 15 July 2010
Off
I'm off on holiday tomorrow! What a joy! It's something a little different and I am looking forward to it massively!
I have nothing else to say. I got out in cricket with an atrocious shot, but it didn't matter one jot because the heavans opened.
I may update on holiday, if there is anything to update you with and if I can find something to create that update.
For now then, it's goodbye.
Ciao x
I have nothing else to say. I got out in cricket with an atrocious shot, but it didn't matter one jot because the heavans opened.
I may update on holiday, if there is anything to update you with and if I can find something to create that update.
For now then, it's goodbye.
Ciao x
Tuesday 13 July 2010
Eating Crap and Watching Films
That's what I've been doing all night. Watching 4 films and eating crap that I bought from Tesco's at midnight. Hot Fuzz, The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions topped off with the best film of all time, Inglorious Basterds.. Now for a bit of film reviewing!
Hot Fuzz is one of my top 3 films of this decade. Fantastically well written, starring one of the best comedy double acts of recent times, this film has the japery and comedy aspects that always make a good film. The element of surprise at the end makes it a fantastic watch and the storyline is just phenomonal. Topped off at the end by a thrilling and almost comically gruesome finale, this film is perfect to start my movie marathon is. Corrrr, im good at this!
After watching that, I thought I'd move on to The Matrix Revolutions. Then I thought, lets go a step back and watch the 2nd one first. The 2nd film, The Matrix Reloaded is the best film of the trilogy. Neo is now used to the idea of being "in the real world" and having successfully fought off an agent at the end of the 1st film, is now inundated by them as that program has developed significantly. The performance of Hugo Weaving as Agent Smith is truly amazing and certainly deserved an Oscar. The film weaves from high and low points for Neo and his new love, Trinity and a good, but maybe could of been better, finale, sees the real world prepare for the final war with the machines.
The Matrix Revolutions on the other hand is distinctly average and has a bit too much full-on action instead of softer moments to develop the storyline. The whole film is practically set over a few days, during the final war with the Machine world and almost the whole film is devoted to lots of gunfire and rocket launching fighting and it just got boring after a while. I was wishing it to end, (despite knowing when it was going to end, having seen it before), and then when it did, the ending is probably one of the worst I've ever seen. You have no idea where Neo is and the film finishes with The Oracle, (an old, wise woman who predicts the future), sitting watching the sunset with the little girl. It couldn't get any more anti-climatic.
My final film of the night, left deliberately till last, was the Quentin Tarantino directed, Inglorious Basterds. THE best film of all time. Leuitenant Aldo Raine and his set of Jewish troops waltz into occupied France to complete a geurilla-style massacreing of the Nazis. The battle between the Nazis, (mostly Colonel Hans Landa, played by the phenomonal Christophe Waltz, of the S.S instead of the usual crowd) and the story develops perfectly until the epic finale. The story is based over 5 chapters, mostly based in Central France, the film is mainly about a German soldier's story of Nazi-championism and his "feat" of slaughtering Italians from a bell tower. His story was made into a film directed by the Nazi 3rd-in-command Joseph Goebbels. The film is being shown at a french cinema, owned by a woman attacked by the Nazis, and Waltz, in her youth. The Basterds hatch a plan to murder the whole of the Nazi command, but the owner and her lover get there first and blow up their cinema with the Nazis locked inside. Hans Landa had already escaped however, which gave the opportunity for the Basterds to get their man and blackmail him into giving the Nazis up.
My food of the night is completely irrelevant, but it cost me £8, (that I don't really have) and was highly unhealthy. But who cares!
Oh wow, it's 7:30am. I'm not tired, having woken up at 10pm after my much-needed 14 hour sleep and I'm back into a normal sleeping pattern! Now I just want Thursday to hurry up.. I might watch The Terminator to pass the time...
Bye x
Hot Fuzz is one of my top 3 films of this decade. Fantastically well written, starring one of the best comedy double acts of recent times, this film has the japery and comedy aspects that always make a good film. The element of surprise at the end makes it a fantastic watch and the storyline is just phenomonal. Topped off at the end by a thrilling and almost comically gruesome finale, this film is perfect to start my movie marathon is. Corrrr, im good at this!
After watching that, I thought I'd move on to The Matrix Revolutions. Then I thought, lets go a step back and watch the 2nd one first. The 2nd film, The Matrix Reloaded is the best film of the trilogy. Neo is now used to the idea of being "in the real world" and having successfully fought off an agent at the end of the 1st film, is now inundated by them as that program has developed significantly. The performance of Hugo Weaving as Agent Smith is truly amazing and certainly deserved an Oscar. The film weaves from high and low points for Neo and his new love, Trinity and a good, but maybe could of been better, finale, sees the real world prepare for the final war with the machines.
The Matrix Revolutions on the other hand is distinctly average and has a bit too much full-on action instead of softer moments to develop the storyline. The whole film is practically set over a few days, during the final war with the Machine world and almost the whole film is devoted to lots of gunfire and rocket launching fighting and it just got boring after a while. I was wishing it to end, (despite knowing when it was going to end, having seen it before), and then when it did, the ending is probably one of the worst I've ever seen. You have no idea where Neo is and the film finishes with The Oracle, (an old, wise woman who predicts the future), sitting watching the sunset with the little girl. It couldn't get any more anti-climatic.
My final film of the night, left deliberately till last, was the Quentin Tarantino directed, Inglorious Basterds. THE best film of all time. Leuitenant Aldo Raine and his set of Jewish troops waltz into occupied France to complete a geurilla-style massacreing of the Nazis. The battle between the Nazis, (mostly Colonel Hans Landa, played by the phenomonal Christophe Waltz, of the S.S instead of the usual crowd) and the story develops perfectly until the epic finale. The story is based over 5 chapters, mostly based in Central France, the film is mainly about a German soldier's story of Nazi-championism and his "feat" of slaughtering Italians from a bell tower. His story was made into a film directed by the Nazi 3rd-in-command Joseph Goebbels. The film is being shown at a french cinema, owned by a woman attacked by the Nazis, and Waltz, in her youth. The Basterds hatch a plan to murder the whole of the Nazi command, but the owner and her lover get there first and blow up their cinema with the Nazis locked inside. Hans Landa had already escaped however, which gave the opportunity for the Basterds to get their man and blackmail him into giving the Nazis up.
My food of the night is completely irrelevant, but it cost me £8, (that I don't really have) and was highly unhealthy. But who cares!
Oh wow, it's 7:30am. I'm not tired, having woken up at 10pm after my much-needed 14 hour sleep and I'm back into a normal sleeping pattern! Now I just want Thursday to hurry up.. I might watch The Terminator to pass the time...
Bye x
Monday 12 July 2010
'H' Is For Holiday
That's it! 5 down, a big fat zero to go! 9 days off, with a golfing holiday in the middle and also a big, fat pay cheque! Ahh man, I couldn't be more happy if I tried..
I haven't been on any holiday longer than a weekend in about 7 years. This one is going to last 5 solid days. The fact I'm also technically getting paid for it aswell makes it all the more sweeter. I've got 3 days off before I leave, which I plan to make the most of despite lack of cash and I will enjoy the freedom so, so much. I've worked hard recently, and I deserve my break.
So, tonight. I drove to work like a rally champion as I had tried to watch as much of the World Cup final as time would possibly allow and got to it. My till tried to make life difficult for me, throwing up challenges because it knew this was my last shift in a while. I ploughed on through though and had a laugh when the manager came in in the morning. I left with a huge smile on my face. Ahh boy..
Earlier in the day, I had played an exact replica of Saturday's innings, another 33 and very attacking and fluid before getting out in EXACTLY the same fashion. I also took a 'Mitten Special' and we won very comfortably. Back on winnings ways. I have a midweek match in the middle of the week, (hence why it's called 'Midweek'..) and then go and let my hair down. Well, what I will have of it.. Might go for the 1 all over tomorrow..
However, despite this massive high, I have only got my usual quota of weekend sleep so now it is time to recover. Sleepy time.
Ciao x
I haven't been on any holiday longer than a weekend in about 7 years. This one is going to last 5 solid days. The fact I'm also technically getting paid for it aswell makes it all the more sweeter. I've got 3 days off before I leave, which I plan to make the most of despite lack of cash and I will enjoy the freedom so, so much. I've worked hard recently, and I deserve my break.
So, tonight. I drove to work like a rally champion as I had tried to watch as much of the World Cup final as time would possibly allow and got to it. My till tried to make life difficult for me, throwing up challenges because it knew this was my last shift in a while. I ploughed on through though and had a laugh when the manager came in in the morning. I left with a huge smile on my face. Ahh boy..
Earlier in the day, I had played an exact replica of Saturday's innings, another 33 and very attacking and fluid before getting out in EXACTLY the same fashion. I also took a 'Mitten Special' and we won very comfortably. Back on winnings ways. I have a midweek match in the middle of the week, (hence why it's called 'Midweek'..) and then go and let my hair down. Well, what I will have of it.. Might go for the 1 all over tomorrow..
However, despite this massive high, I have only got my usual quota of weekend sleep so now it is time to recover. Sleepy time.
Ciao x
Sunday 11 July 2010
Alcohol Makes People Act Funny
I was expecting a busy one tonight. Every Saturday night is, but the good weather and the weekend before Bedford's biggest festival means more people are going to be out partying and that ultimately means more customers.
The night started off fairly quietly. Obviously, the Bedford masses were waiting till later to strike and that was certainly the case.
I will start with earlier though. Another win for the mighty Bedford Town, 4 in 4 now means we are 3rd, (to be confirmed), and I hit some very well connected and fluid runs before being caught on the boundary for 33. Hopefully, I can reproduce that form later on today and it is due to be a little cooler and therefore more bearable. We got a very respectable 225 and bowled out our opposition for 173. I bowled atrociously, but luckily our team has more capable beings and we won comfortably in the end.
I always go home after cricket in a bad mood. More so on Saturday and today was no exception. I got home at half 7, just in time for the 3-2 Germany win and my Dad's complaints that the Germans had played none of his dream team picks, "on purpose to spite him". I severely doubt the German manager, Joachim Loaw, (a name with more pleghm than an Afghan), chose his team based on some randomer from England-land and his fantasy team. Dear me. Still, it was a very good game but it was all over too soon and, quicker than I could say Lukas Podolski, I was driving in my beloved Saxo down Haylands Way, listening to Radio 1's god awful Saturday night line-up, in a depressing state. I had to keep telling myself about the money and the holiday next week and that I had to only do 2 more shifts before I get a break. Holidays are so much more valuable now I only get 4 weeks and not 12.
As I said, the shift started fairly slowly. There was some last-minute sortings out to ... sort out.. after the chiller leak but that was all dealt with swimmingly and things were all back to shape after a few days of ... swimming... It all started going tits-up, (almost literally), at about 2.30am.
The Wall was on his break. At least I think he was. For all I know he could of been lying on the ground in a deep state of shock or running around in non-existent traffic, but the point I'm trying to get at is I was out there, on my own. As is the norm on Saturday night, you get a few people come in persuading you to sell them some alcohol, (which you're not allowed to after 11pm), and every time the answer is, no. It happened again tonight. 2, admittedly dazzling girls, (I say "dazzling", they were bloody amazing!), came in and asked if they could have some vodka. I said, no, in a more polite and dignified way but they wouldn't take no for an answer. For about 15 minutes, they tried to bargain and I was getting slightly annoyed. I had things to do and I couldn't be doing with people, however good-looking, badgering me for things they weren't going to get..
..Then they offered to strip. No word of a lie, they offered to strip for some vodka. I thought about it. Which is more important..? My job or ... no! You need money.. I laughed it off and they eventually left, alcohol-less. Strange times. It sort of brightened my mood though.
The Wall then came off his break, (or fit or running around in traffic), and I went on mine. Finally, a chance to sit down and have something to eat. I texted the man who needs a dentist and relaxed. 15 minutes in, half way through, The Wall opens the door ahead of me. "I need your help.."
I was livid. This is my break! How dare he disturb me during my precious break! I went out into the front expecting him to ask me to look for a pair of scissors but I was greeted with a monstrous queue, snaking all the way out the door.. 3am.. Where do all these people come from?! So, I had a 15 minute break, took some people's money, then got back to work. This job is harsh sometimes..
Time went on. Customers, more than usual, came and went. I was struggling to keep up with the jobs and things didn't help when I got my 2nd awkward customer.
It was a man this time. Definitely not as good looking as the pair of ladies and he was visibly ruined. Staggering through BP's mazey queue, he made his way up to the till. He tried many attempts to talk... many.. and after 5 minutes, blurted out "20 Mayfair". This guy did not just waste 5 minutes of my time to say 2 words.. I short-changed him because I was annoyed. I don't care and quite frankly, BP needs all the money they can get at the moment!
The rest of the shift was fairly quiet, as it usually is early on a Sunday morning, and I managed to make up for lost time and get all my jobs done, just, and go home at a reasonable time. My legs ache and I have another cricket match later. Hopefully I can get some runs, with the aid of Pro Plus before my final shift of the week.. I cannot wait for this time tomorrow morning...
The things that alcohol can do to people... You wouldn't find me offering to strip for vodka. That's more Beddoe's territory! ;)
Cya x
The night started off fairly quietly. Obviously, the Bedford masses were waiting till later to strike and that was certainly the case.
I will start with earlier though. Another win for the mighty Bedford Town, 4 in 4 now means we are 3rd, (to be confirmed), and I hit some very well connected and fluid runs before being caught on the boundary for 33. Hopefully, I can reproduce that form later on today and it is due to be a little cooler and therefore more bearable. We got a very respectable 225 and bowled out our opposition for 173. I bowled atrociously, but luckily our team has more capable beings and we won comfortably in the end.
I always go home after cricket in a bad mood. More so on Saturday and today was no exception. I got home at half 7, just in time for the 3-2 Germany win and my Dad's complaints that the Germans had played none of his dream team picks, "on purpose to spite him". I severely doubt the German manager, Joachim Loaw, (a name with more pleghm than an Afghan), chose his team based on some randomer from England-land and his fantasy team. Dear me. Still, it was a very good game but it was all over too soon and, quicker than I could say Lukas Podolski, I was driving in my beloved Saxo down Haylands Way, listening to Radio 1's god awful Saturday night line-up, in a depressing state. I had to keep telling myself about the money and the holiday next week and that I had to only do 2 more shifts before I get a break. Holidays are so much more valuable now I only get 4 weeks and not 12.
As I said, the shift started fairly slowly. There was some last-minute sortings out to ... sort out.. after the chiller leak but that was all dealt with swimmingly and things were all back to shape after a few days of ... swimming... It all started going tits-up, (almost literally), at about 2.30am.
The Wall was on his break. At least I think he was. For all I know he could of been lying on the ground in a deep state of shock or running around in non-existent traffic, but the point I'm trying to get at is I was out there, on my own. As is the norm on Saturday night, you get a few people come in persuading you to sell them some alcohol, (which you're not allowed to after 11pm), and every time the answer is, no. It happened again tonight. 2, admittedly dazzling girls, (I say "dazzling", they were bloody amazing!), came in and asked if they could have some vodka. I said, no, in a more polite and dignified way but they wouldn't take no for an answer. For about 15 minutes, they tried to bargain and I was getting slightly annoyed. I had things to do and I couldn't be doing with people, however good-looking, badgering me for things they weren't going to get..
..Then they offered to strip. No word of a lie, they offered to strip for some vodka. I thought about it. Which is more important..? My job or ... no! You need money.. I laughed it off and they eventually left, alcohol-less. Strange times. It sort of brightened my mood though.
The Wall then came off his break, (or fit or running around in traffic), and I went on mine. Finally, a chance to sit down and have something to eat. I texted the man who needs a dentist and relaxed. 15 minutes in, half way through, The Wall opens the door ahead of me. "I need your help.."
I was livid. This is my break! How dare he disturb me during my precious break! I went out into the front expecting him to ask me to look for a pair of scissors but I was greeted with a monstrous queue, snaking all the way out the door.. 3am.. Where do all these people come from?! So, I had a 15 minute break, took some people's money, then got back to work. This job is harsh sometimes..
Time went on. Customers, more than usual, came and went. I was struggling to keep up with the jobs and things didn't help when I got my 2nd awkward customer.
It was a man this time. Definitely not as good looking as the pair of ladies and he was visibly ruined. Staggering through BP's mazey queue, he made his way up to the till. He tried many attempts to talk... many.. and after 5 minutes, blurted out "20 Mayfair". This guy did not just waste 5 minutes of my time to say 2 words.. I short-changed him because I was annoyed. I don't care and quite frankly, BP needs all the money they can get at the moment!
The rest of the shift was fairly quiet, as it usually is early on a Sunday morning, and I managed to make up for lost time and get all my jobs done, just, and go home at a reasonable time. My legs ache and I have another cricket match later. Hopefully I can get some runs, with the aid of Pro Plus before my final shift of the week.. I cannot wait for this time tomorrow morning...
The things that alcohol can do to people... You wouldn't find me offering to strip for vodka. That's more Beddoe's territory! ;)
Cya x
Friday 9 July 2010
The Polish Man and the Leak
Tonight was fairly interesting and also fairly busy. We had a Polish man come in to clean the chillers and it took him bloody forever! I had to dodge in and out of him, re-stocking what seemed like the whole of the UK's food supply around him and then he decided to clean the milk chiller just as I was re-stocking the milk. Damn Polish, stealin' our jobs..
At about 2am, he left, with a signatured piece of paper in his hand with a hand-scrawned note at the top saying, "And Never Come Back!", (I joke), but just as he left I noticed a trickle of water run past the end of the back chiller. "What could that be?".. I walked round and as I turned the corner noticed what can only be described as either the 2006 Tsunami or The River Nile. The whole aisle was submerged in cold water. Half of my foot went under.. Not good. I suppose the cleaning helped with the cleanliness but obviously unblocked something, allowing this water to seep out on the floor. So, I spent most of the night hurriedly mopping up and soaking up this lake, aswell as doing other things. It was a tough one. I needed more than a single sheet of Bounty to clean it up anyway!
I was tired by this stage. I had woken up earlier than planned to have a much needed net with a few people and I had wanted to find out whether CW had got his coveted 5 wickets. I still don't know. Tell me God damn you! I went to work, in my prized Saxo, in a fairly bad and tired mood, knowing I've got 4 shifts left.. Sigh.. I now only have 3, but those 3 I will be running into the wall.. Joy unconfined for me..
Not a lot more else to waffle about. Inspirational? Pah!
Laters x
At about 2am, he left, with a signatured piece of paper in his hand with a hand-scrawned note at the top saying, "And Never Come Back!", (I joke), but just as he left I noticed a trickle of water run past the end of the back chiller. "What could that be?".. I walked round and as I turned the corner noticed what can only be described as either the 2006 Tsunami or The River Nile. The whole aisle was submerged in cold water. Half of my foot went under.. Not good. I suppose the cleaning helped with the cleanliness but obviously unblocked something, allowing this water to seep out on the floor. So, I spent most of the night hurriedly mopping up and soaking up this lake, aswell as doing other things. It was a tough one. I needed more than a single sheet of Bounty to clean it up anyway!
I was tired by this stage. I had woken up earlier than planned to have a much needed net with a few people and I had wanted to find out whether CW had got his coveted 5 wickets. I still don't know. Tell me God damn you! I went to work, in my prized Saxo, in a fairly bad and tired mood, knowing I've got 4 shifts left.. Sigh.. I now only have 3, but those 3 I will be running into the wall.. Joy unconfined for me..
Not a lot more else to waffle about. Inspirational? Pah!
Laters x
Thursday 8 July 2010
Sport Is My World
Flair and style beat hard-work and stamina this evening, by a single goal and a bullet header from Carlos Puyol. I am fully aware that's not how you spell his first name, but who spells Carlos with an 'E'..? I was sitting watching the football this evening, while my laptop frustrated me as much as Emile Heskey did, way back when England were a part of this World Cup, lacking internet connectivity.
Full marks to Emile though. After having a disastrous World Cup, he came back to England, put on a frock and won the Women's Wimbeldon title.
The World Cup has been an overriding success however. The hosts, for the first time in Africa, have put on a good show despite the dreadful bee-like din of the vuvuzelas and the pitch invader that wasted a probably well-paid for ticket in the semi-final this evening, South Africa have been successful in their hosting. There will be a new World Cup winner on Sunday evening, when the potentially Dangerous Dutch meet the Stylish Spanish. My bets are on Spain, but I will wait for Paul the Psychic Octopus to make his prediction before I head down the bookies.
The main story of this World Cup though hasn't been Italy and France being disastrous or Capello's wrong team selection and England's subsequent dire performance and the 4-1 thrashing by The Germans or indeed the Uruguayans unfounded ability to kick a football. No, the true story of the world cup, is something you can buy for £2 from Sainsbury's.
No other country in the world has something like the Vuvuzela. A simple horn, when played correctly, creating a huge din of bee-like sound when, in their thousands, can make an atmosphere unique to South Africa. Some players have blamed it for their poor performance and some broadcasters have complained that it drowns out the noise of their commentary, (good news for us if Mick McCarthy is commentating..), but the fact of the matter is, the atmosphere must be phenomonal.
A friend of mine came back from South Africa last week and was seemingly deaf. Surrounded by the noise of the horn, his ears were not used to silence. He swapped his Argentina-Mexico tickets for some England ones, and then wished he hadn't as they got swept away by the young and gutsy Germans.
The vuvuzela has become a popular hit back in the UK. They were even banned from Wimbeldon, which seemed a tad pointless, because who would want to blow a vuvuzela at a tennis match? That would be like blowing a trumpet in a snooker hall. Completely pointless and would make everyone turn against you and chuck their strawberries and cream in the general direction of your face.
Aswell as this, England beat the Aussies in the cricket again, (I know, you were too busy watching the football), and some illustrious batting gave England an unassailable 3-0 lead in the 5 match series, before coming away with a 3-2 series win. The Aussies never get whitewashed.
Sport is my life. Sport is my world. It is all I live for. Everything I do in my spare time, (unless you count a bit of drinking on the "rare" occasion), is associated with a sport of some kind. I just can't keep away. Given the opportunity to play, I will grab it with both Mittens and hold on. Even if it does kill me. I realise my blog posts have been highly uninspirational recently. They've been boring and monotonous, me moaning about work and life. I suppose that's why I started this blog back in December 09, but it becomes tedious after a while..
I do plan to keep writing, but perhaps a little more ... inspirationally.
Also, good luck to CW for later today. Hopefully he has an even more successful 2nd day than his first one. Surrey will be ringing you soon my friend!
1 down ... 4 to go...
Bye x
Full marks to Emile though. After having a disastrous World Cup, he came back to England, put on a frock and won the Women's Wimbeldon title.
The World Cup has been an overriding success however. The hosts, for the first time in Africa, have put on a good show despite the dreadful bee-like din of the vuvuzelas and the pitch invader that wasted a probably well-paid for ticket in the semi-final this evening, South Africa have been successful in their hosting. There will be a new World Cup winner on Sunday evening, when the potentially Dangerous Dutch meet the Stylish Spanish. My bets are on Spain, but I will wait for Paul the Psychic Octopus to make his prediction before I head down the bookies.
The main story of this World Cup though hasn't been Italy and France being disastrous or Capello's wrong team selection and England's subsequent dire performance and the 4-1 thrashing by The Germans or indeed the Uruguayans unfounded ability to kick a football. No, the true story of the world cup, is something you can buy for £2 from Sainsbury's.
No other country in the world has something like the Vuvuzela. A simple horn, when played correctly, creating a huge din of bee-like sound when, in their thousands, can make an atmosphere unique to South Africa. Some players have blamed it for their poor performance and some broadcasters have complained that it drowns out the noise of their commentary, (good news for us if Mick McCarthy is commentating..), but the fact of the matter is, the atmosphere must be phenomonal.
A friend of mine came back from South Africa last week and was seemingly deaf. Surrounded by the noise of the horn, his ears were not used to silence. He swapped his Argentina-Mexico tickets for some England ones, and then wished he hadn't as they got swept away by the young and gutsy Germans.
The vuvuzela has become a popular hit back in the UK. They were even banned from Wimbeldon, which seemed a tad pointless, because who would want to blow a vuvuzela at a tennis match? That would be like blowing a trumpet in a snooker hall. Completely pointless and would make everyone turn against you and chuck their strawberries and cream in the general direction of your face.
Aswell as this, England beat the Aussies in the cricket again, (I know, you were too busy watching the football), and some illustrious batting gave England an unassailable 3-0 lead in the 5 match series, before coming away with a 3-2 series win. The Aussies never get whitewashed.
Sport is my life. Sport is my world. It is all I live for. Everything I do in my spare time, (unless you count a bit of drinking on the "rare" occasion), is associated with a sport of some kind. I just can't keep away. Given the opportunity to play, I will grab it with both Mittens and hold on. Even if it does kill me. I realise my blog posts have been highly uninspirational recently. They've been boring and monotonous, me moaning about work and life. I suppose that's why I started this blog back in December 09, but it becomes tedious after a while..
I do plan to keep writing, but perhaps a little more ... inspirationally.
Also, good luck to CW for later today. Hopefully he has an even more successful 2nd day than his first one. Surrey will be ringing you soon my friend!
1 down ... 4 to go...
Bye x
Wednesday 7 July 2010
Not Learning Lessons
I've only gone and done it again haven't I.. I've agreed to play on both Saturday and Sunday because I don't have the heart to say no to either.. I know exactly what's going to happen.. I'll play rubbish both days and then be so tired, I won't be able to handle the demands of working weekend nights.
I had supposed to have quit Saturdays, but last weekend obviously, I enjoyed Saturday so much more than Sunday so my mind was put back into it's decision state. Saturday or Sunday? I still haven't made my mind up so I'll play both! No idea, so I'll kill myself instead! Fantastic work Mitten!
I could go and cancel one of them without too much hassle but I don't know which one I want to and to be completely honest, I know one night at work, I will be majorly depressed because I know I won't have anything to look forward to later in the day. At work, on a Friday and Saturday night, I can get through it because I know I have something to do later.. If I refused to play on Sunday for example, my Saturday night would be hell as I would know I had nothing to do except sleep. And when you sleep through the whole day, it seems as if you're back at work quicker than you left it.. Dilemmas.
I've only got this one week off anyway, before 9 very solid days off and I get paid halfway through that before we go to Sussex for the weekend. That 9 days is coming slower than a disabled tortoise which is torture. I'm going back to work tomorrow night, but it's not so bad on Wednesdays and Thursdays, because I work with someone who can do their job. Unlike you know who...
So, this weekend will be yet another tiresome one and there is only one person to blame for that. And we all know who that is don't we..
Ciao x
I had supposed to have quit Saturdays, but last weekend obviously, I enjoyed Saturday so much more than Sunday so my mind was put back into it's decision state. Saturday or Sunday? I still haven't made my mind up so I'll play both! No idea, so I'll kill myself instead! Fantastic work Mitten!
I could go and cancel one of them without too much hassle but I don't know which one I want to and to be completely honest, I know one night at work, I will be majorly depressed because I know I won't have anything to look forward to later in the day. At work, on a Friday and Saturday night, I can get through it because I know I have something to do later.. If I refused to play on Sunday for example, my Saturday night would be hell as I would know I had nothing to do except sleep. And when you sleep through the whole day, it seems as if you're back at work quicker than you left it.. Dilemmas.
I've only got this one week off anyway, before 9 very solid days off and I get paid halfway through that before we go to Sussex for the weekend. That 9 days is coming slower than a disabled tortoise which is torture. I'm going back to work tomorrow night, but it's not so bad on Wednesdays and Thursdays, because I work with someone who can do their job. Unlike you know who...
So, this weekend will be yet another tiresome one and there is only one person to blame for that. And we all know who that is don't we..
Ciao x
Monday 5 July 2010
Burning Out
Decisions need to be made and to be honest, although they will probably mean very little to you, they mean very much to me.. This weekend I played cricket on saturday and sunday and tonight's shift was a true killer. The game wasn't too good either..
I was tired after Saturday night's shift, it was a busy one. Only getting 4 hours sleep doesn't help and I turned up half asleep and fielded for 45 overs, taking a good catch however, before going out to bat. By this stage, I was ruined. I needed sleep desperately, even more so than I did last Monday driving back from London. Opening the batting requires a certain amount of concentration and technique. I had none of these today and ultimately got given out leg before to a ball that, as Mark Nicholas would say, "kept a lil' low!" I'm not usually the person to get annoyed by getting out or making a mistake in sport but when I got back to the dressing room I chucked my bat across the room. Smack into the wall it went. No one saw it, or heard it, I think, but when I had de-padded, I went for a walk. I went and lied down in the corner as the rest of my teammates went about trying to chase a good score on a difficult pitch.
I did a lot of thinking while sitting in that corner. I regretted putting myself through 2 matches and 3 shifts and it ultimately affected my performance across the whole weekend. At work and on the cricket field. I really have to make a decision on whether I want to play on Saturdays or Sundays. I can't possibly do both. Not anymore.
I have to pick one day from 2, for very different reasons. Saturdays is a laugh, I enjoy it and the banter is brilliant. However the standard and the pitches are fairly poor and I feel I can push myself a little further. This is where Sundays is good. The standard is perfect, but the pressure on winning and the "sledging" and competitiveness of it all, I do not enjoy. The last few matches have been fairly heated affairs, (for a cricket match!), mainly because my team-mates are hugely competitive. I do not like competitiveness in cricket. There's no need to go sledging every ball. Some would argue it puts the batsman off, but I feel it just isn't in the spirit. It takes the enjoyment out of it all, arguing all the time and disputing chirpiness, makes things depressing..
Saturdays and fun or Sundays and standard? We won on Saturday this weekend, whilst having fun and lost on Sunday surrounded by tension and two teams that honestly disliked each other at the end.. This morning, the choice seems easy, but go and watch me play 2 games again this weekend.. I just can't get enough and sure as hell, I will regret it.
Things are going to be worse in the Winter. 1) It will be Winter, which will makes things colder, wetter and more miserable and 2) I will be doing the same with the football season, which I am less enthusiastic about. I don't know why, because I have played and enjoyed football for the whole of my life, but the idea of refereeing adults on Saturday afternoons with little sleep and then playing on cold and wet Sunday mornings with no sleep at all... I'm not sure it will go too well..
At the moment though, I have some thinking to do and some talking to do with people. I'd like some opinions, especially from someone who is going through a very similar dilemma, albeit at a much higher level than me.. Enjoyment or Standard? The question. Whatever the case though, if it stays as it is, I will burn out very, very quickly.
And now, I must sleep.
Cya x
I was tired after Saturday night's shift, it was a busy one. Only getting 4 hours sleep doesn't help and I turned up half asleep and fielded for 45 overs, taking a good catch however, before going out to bat. By this stage, I was ruined. I needed sleep desperately, even more so than I did last Monday driving back from London. Opening the batting requires a certain amount of concentration and technique. I had none of these today and ultimately got given out leg before to a ball that, as Mark Nicholas would say, "kept a lil' low!" I'm not usually the person to get annoyed by getting out or making a mistake in sport but when I got back to the dressing room I chucked my bat across the room. Smack into the wall it went. No one saw it, or heard it, I think, but when I had de-padded, I went for a walk. I went and lied down in the corner as the rest of my teammates went about trying to chase a good score on a difficult pitch.
I did a lot of thinking while sitting in that corner. I regretted putting myself through 2 matches and 3 shifts and it ultimately affected my performance across the whole weekend. At work and on the cricket field. I really have to make a decision on whether I want to play on Saturdays or Sundays. I can't possibly do both. Not anymore.
I have to pick one day from 2, for very different reasons. Saturdays is a laugh, I enjoy it and the banter is brilliant. However the standard and the pitches are fairly poor and I feel I can push myself a little further. This is where Sundays is good. The standard is perfect, but the pressure on winning and the "sledging" and competitiveness of it all, I do not enjoy. The last few matches have been fairly heated affairs, (for a cricket match!), mainly because my team-mates are hugely competitive. I do not like competitiveness in cricket. There's no need to go sledging every ball. Some would argue it puts the batsman off, but I feel it just isn't in the spirit. It takes the enjoyment out of it all, arguing all the time and disputing chirpiness, makes things depressing..
Saturdays and fun or Sundays and standard? We won on Saturday this weekend, whilst having fun and lost on Sunday surrounded by tension and two teams that honestly disliked each other at the end.. This morning, the choice seems easy, but go and watch me play 2 games again this weekend.. I just can't get enough and sure as hell, I will regret it.
Things are going to be worse in the Winter. 1) It will be Winter, which will makes things colder, wetter and more miserable and 2) I will be doing the same with the football season, which I am less enthusiastic about. I don't know why, because I have played and enjoyed football for the whole of my life, but the idea of refereeing adults on Saturday afternoons with little sleep and then playing on cold and wet Sunday mornings with no sleep at all... I'm not sure it will go too well..
At the moment though, I have some thinking to do and some talking to do with people. I'd like some opinions, especially from someone who is going through a very similar dilemma, albeit at a much higher level than me.. Enjoyment or Standard? The question. Whatever the case though, if it stays as it is, I will burn out very, very quickly.
And now, I must sleep.
Cya x
Sunday 4 July 2010
The Future's Bright
It's more red than orange.. Red for danger, instead of orange for hope and ambition. Once again, I was left wondering to myself how I've let myself not fulfil the potential I know I have deep, deep, deep down inside me, at 4am, whilst baking bread. It sounds pathetic. I know I am better than this but most of me doesn't want to do anything about it. Why not? Surely every person on the planet wants to be the best they can be, so what is holding me back?
The work. Certainly the work. I can't face going back into education now after the horrific final year I had. It would kill me and take me back to the dark days. I have a fear of education, a fear of learning and revision and exams. Pretty much everyone dislikes it, especially exams, but the whole idea of education makes me feel physically sick. Like I have just eaten a Baked Bean and Cheese Muffin or downed 2 shots of Wray and Nephews..
Fear of failure? Maybe. I have always maintained I like to know what I am doing, however boring it is, and I don't like adventure and not knowing where I'm going to be. I have never known where I'm going to be mind you, and most of the time it doesn't bother me as much as it did tonight.. If I go back into education now and completely cock it up, I'd be left in the duldrums of blackness and left with nowhere to go. Maybe if I stay in work now, I will be able to work my way up in good time and do something with my life.. It all requires hard work though.. Mitten and hard work is a combination that doesn't go together.. Almost like cheese and baked beans!
I wasn't in the greatest of moods tonight. Clearly. I was physically tired after bowling 8 overs in the match I had promised myself I would play no part in and I haven't bowled 8 overs in a long, long time! My legs ached all night, and still do, and the dreaded Saturday night curse kicked into overtime as customers, mostly drunk, droned in in their groups and ran out again, before another group came in. I couldn't get anything done. Customers ruin everything in retail!
And guess what? I have another cricket match today! I'm going to be aching a lot when I wake up in a few hours time! Why do I do this to myself..?
Ciao x
The work. Certainly the work. I can't face going back into education now after the horrific final year I had. It would kill me and take me back to the dark days. I have a fear of education, a fear of learning and revision and exams. Pretty much everyone dislikes it, especially exams, but the whole idea of education makes me feel physically sick. Like I have just eaten a Baked Bean and Cheese Muffin or downed 2 shots of Wray and Nephews..
Fear of failure? Maybe. I have always maintained I like to know what I am doing, however boring it is, and I don't like adventure and not knowing where I'm going to be. I have never known where I'm going to be mind you, and most of the time it doesn't bother me as much as it did tonight.. If I go back into education now and completely cock it up, I'd be left in the duldrums of blackness and left with nowhere to go. Maybe if I stay in work now, I will be able to work my way up in good time and do something with my life.. It all requires hard work though.. Mitten and hard work is a combination that doesn't go together.. Almost like cheese and baked beans!
I wasn't in the greatest of moods tonight. Clearly. I was physically tired after bowling 8 overs in the match I had promised myself I would play no part in and I haven't bowled 8 overs in a long, long time! My legs ached all night, and still do, and the dreaded Saturday night curse kicked into overtime as customers, mostly drunk, droned in in their groups and ran out again, before another group came in. I couldn't get anything done. Customers ruin everything in retail!
And guess what? I have another cricket match today! I'm going to be aching a lot when I wake up in a few hours time! Why do I do this to myself..?
Ciao x
Saturday 3 July 2010
Going Alone
Come 5am this morning, the shift was destined for a grade of 'distinctly average' but to make it a little more interesting and a little less 'distinctly average', he decided to have a fit! I'm sure he didn't decide to have one. I'm fairly sure they just happen, however they have never happened before in the presence of paramedics who went overboard and called an ambulance..
Now, 2 things, 1) Why would they call ANOTHER ambulance when they are in one already.. and 2) why the hell did they call one at all?! I mean, he's had loads before and just snapped out of it so what would make this one any different? He sat down and after 15 minutes he did snap out of it but the paramedics who were there, (4 of them by now... seemed like a waste to me...), decided it was best if he had a trip to the hospital. They asked me a few questions about his "medical history" like I was his friend or something and I must have sounded a bit mean when I said "I haven't a clue". I was tempted to say, "He's had a long history of being a COMPLETE MORON!", but I resisted..
So, 5:15am and he had been carted off, needlessly, in the back of an ambulance. I wasn't supposed to be in this place on my own, but it was only 20 minutes before the manager turned up..
"Where is he?" he asked.. I replied with, "He never turned up, it's just been me all night" and got a shocked look in return. Clearly, I told him I was joking and he got taken away by the green people in the back of a van with a few yellow stripes and a blue light on top and I got the same shocked look in response. I wasn't surprised it happened really. It was going to at some stage. I'm also being optimistic in hoping that's the end of him. It won't be.
To be fair, I do have a lot to thank The Wall for. Him being so bad, makes me look very good when I really am just 'distinctly average', and it does provide some moments of entertainment although I wouldn't regard it as "entertainment" at the time..
So, my 'distinctly average' night was brightened up a bit by spending 30 minutes less time than I had to with The Wall and then I got to go home again! I bought a Cheese and Baked Bean muffin that I had cooked 30 minutes earlier.. (Yeah, they really are as bad as they sound!), and drove home looking forward to cricket later. I have been forced out of retirement because our new captain is a bully!
2 more shifts then 2 days off, then a monster week before I am free.. 12 days and counting..
Bye x
Now, 2 things, 1) Why would they call ANOTHER ambulance when they are in one already.. and 2) why the hell did they call one at all?! I mean, he's had loads before and just snapped out of it so what would make this one any different? He sat down and after 15 minutes he did snap out of it but the paramedics who were there, (4 of them by now... seemed like a waste to me...), decided it was best if he had a trip to the hospital. They asked me a few questions about his "medical history" like I was his friend or something and I must have sounded a bit mean when I said "I haven't a clue". I was tempted to say, "He's had a long history of being a COMPLETE MORON!", but I resisted..
So, 5:15am and he had been carted off, needlessly, in the back of an ambulance. I wasn't supposed to be in this place on my own, but it was only 20 minutes before the manager turned up..
"Where is he?" he asked.. I replied with, "He never turned up, it's just been me all night" and got a shocked look in return. Clearly, I told him I was joking and he got taken away by the green people in the back of a van with a few yellow stripes and a blue light on top and I got the same shocked look in response. I wasn't surprised it happened really. It was going to at some stage. I'm also being optimistic in hoping that's the end of him. It won't be.
To be fair, I do have a lot to thank The Wall for. Him being so bad, makes me look very good when I really am just 'distinctly average', and it does provide some moments of entertainment although I wouldn't regard it as "entertainment" at the time..
So, my 'distinctly average' night was brightened up a bit by spending 30 minutes less time than I had to with The Wall and then I got to go home again! I bought a Cheese and Baked Bean muffin that I had cooked 30 minutes earlier.. (Yeah, they really are as bad as they sound!), and drove home looking forward to cricket later. I have been forced out of retirement because our new captain is a bully!
2 more shifts then 2 days off, then a monster week before I am free.. 12 days and counting..
Bye x
Friday 2 July 2010
Messrs Wray and Nephews
Anyone who has encountered this rum-based liqeur is a highly unlucky person.
Today has been a non-stop attempt to long out the fact that I have to go back to work tomorrow, so I went to golf, where I played distinctly average, straight to a distinctly average cricket match although we wrapped up the league title and then on to a dinstinctly average night out on the town..
Not that I know what a distinctly night out is recently, because I simply haven't been on one! I've had 1 bottle of Corona in 3 months up until tonight so part of me was apprehensive that it was going to be a cheap night until I roll over on the grass or be sick outside a takeaway somewhere. I knew I had to take it slow, and I did just that. I was "merry", where some other people were near death, namely Beddoe, and to join the younger people enjoying their prom afterparty was pretty cool! Walking home wasn't cool though, so I joined Boony in walking towards his and then ended up going to work... Not to work however, just to buy a few things that totalled up to £6.75.. with 5p for a bag remember.. Ludicrous prices! The donuts are just horrible aswell.. Why I bought those I don't know.. I was going to walk home but I had an epic dose of what youths call "Cba" and rang for a cab.
The cab that turned up was a regular customer at BP and we know each other very well. Whenever I see him walk through the door I grab 10 Sovereign and he pays his £3.20 and he's on his way again. Not even a word need be spoken, but tonight, he was at work and I was the paying customer. He's a top bloke, and we had fun completely ripping into The Wall before I got home, at about 4:15am, and came upstairs to type this blog! That's that! It's nice to know that it's not just me being obnoxious and that everyone else genuinely dislikes The Wall. I wonder if there is one person in the world who likes him...? Hmmm..
I also wonder how Beddoe is doing.. Earlier in the night, he had a couple of shots of 'Wray and Nephews', a 63% alcohol rum shot which is possibly the worst thing on the planet. He wasn't so good at half 1 when he was being sick in the corner of the club so now, I presume, he is at home. Asleep. Being sick more.. The damage Messrs Wray and Nephews does to you.. Especially if you have 2 of them... Oh Beddoe..
Laters x
Today has been a non-stop attempt to long out the fact that I have to go back to work tomorrow, so I went to golf, where I played distinctly average, straight to a distinctly average cricket match although we wrapped up the league title and then on to a dinstinctly average night out on the town..
Not that I know what a distinctly night out is recently, because I simply haven't been on one! I've had 1 bottle of Corona in 3 months up until tonight so part of me was apprehensive that it was going to be a cheap night until I roll over on the grass or be sick outside a takeaway somewhere. I knew I had to take it slow, and I did just that. I was "merry", where some other people were near death, namely Beddoe, and to join the younger people enjoying their prom afterparty was pretty cool! Walking home wasn't cool though, so I joined Boony in walking towards his and then ended up going to work... Not to work however, just to buy a few things that totalled up to £6.75.. with 5p for a bag remember.. Ludicrous prices! The donuts are just horrible aswell.. Why I bought those I don't know.. I was going to walk home but I had an epic dose of what youths call "Cba" and rang for a cab.
The cab that turned up was a regular customer at BP and we know each other very well. Whenever I see him walk through the door I grab 10 Sovereign and he pays his £3.20 and he's on his way again. Not even a word need be spoken, but tonight, he was at work and I was the paying customer. He's a top bloke, and we had fun completely ripping into The Wall before I got home, at about 4:15am, and came upstairs to type this blog! That's that! It's nice to know that it's not just me being obnoxious and that everyone else genuinely dislikes The Wall. I wonder if there is one person in the world who likes him...? Hmmm..
I also wonder how Beddoe is doing.. Earlier in the night, he had a couple of shots of 'Wray and Nephews', a 63% alcohol rum shot which is possibly the worst thing on the planet. He wasn't so good at half 1 when he was being sick in the corner of the club so now, I presume, he is at home. Asleep. Being sick more.. The damage Messrs Wray and Nephews does to you.. Especially if you have 2 of them... Oh Beddoe..
Laters x
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