Wow.
Tonight, once again, was Saturday night. And it was insane. If you take your average kebab house, put a few Swedes behind the counter and then when you ask for a meat kebab and chips, you instead get served a Volvo, that doesn't even get close to the insaneness of the night I have just experienced.
I started at 10, as usual, knowing what was coming. The first few hours dragged as slow as Ann Widdecombe on a dancefloor and the clock, (which later exploded), was quite literally moving backwards as the night just dragged on and on and on and on... The amount of customers was insane aswell, we took just over £3000 in cash between us where it usually around the £2,000 mark and the queues were sometimes too hot to handle. Just like the curry I stupidly tried to have in my shortened break.
I'm never having Lamb Rogan Josh ever again.
At 2am, we had to do the past hour again thanks to Her Majesty's General Mean Time change which was possibly the most depressing thing ever to exist. While everyone else was enjoying the extra hour of shut-eye or the extra hour of banging tunes in a club somewhere, me and the ever-present Wall enjoyed a series of drunk and sometimes insulting custom.
The only positive I can take from the whole shift, (which didn't end when I expected it to..), was that the papers came earlier than usual and I managed to get them completed by 6.15! Yes! I get to go home earlier than I expected after 9 hours of what Hell would call, "a summer holiday".
But no. The member of our team that was supposed to turn up to man the till was a no show. So, rather stupidly of me, I offered to stay till 9 which was gladly accepted by the Man With The Plan, (New Store Manager, Alex = Legend), so I ended up staying till 9! I got a reduced Red Bull and a Bacon and Cheese turnover for my troubles, and that finally ended the 12 hour shift. I might aswell have just bought my sleeping bag and lived there for a few days, as far as I'm concerned.
And now, more tired than ever, I have to go to football. I'm more 'not bothered' than I usually am and the fact it's a county cup match against a probable aggressive and physically tough Luton team does nothing to improve my mood.
The only real positive I can take is that I've got 4 days off next week and I've already got things planned. Good.
Cya x
Sunday 31 October 2010
Saturday 30 October 2010
The Girl Who Muddled
Yesterday was a strange day. I bloggled, furiously, about the amount of times the phone rang yesterday morning while I was trying to sleep, and I am unhappy to report that it rang 2 more times after I turned this laptop off. The 2nd time, I went downstairs, with the idea that I would be mightily grumpy with the unlucky person on the other end but by the time I got there, he/she had hung up... In complete frustration, I ended up literally ripping the phone off its holder and throwing it on the floor. You won't disturb me again.
It was roughly 11.15am by that time, and I managed to get a few hours sleep, up until 2pm, when I heard another 'ring ring'. It was my mobile. I was groggy, so didn't bother looking at who was ringing and said, 'Hello?' ... big mistake. It was the Goddess of All Evil, asking me to work a double shift because the PM staff hadn't turned up. The Grumpy One in fact. I made a shifty compromise and said I'd do it if he would do my night shift.
Result. I did the 2pm-10pm shift and didn't have to endure the tyranny of the Wall or the 1st instalment of the hideous weekend papers, (which should be being worked right about now!). I'm back on nights tomorrow however, so I cannot escape the dreaded extra hour due to a change in GMT, and also, I need to stay awake a little longer, despite the night I have had.
Now, I must explain, my original plan was to come home and relax and chill out, maybe listen to a bit of Annie Mac, maybe go to sleep at 3am? Proper chill out, is what I felt I needed. However, I was coaxed out by Mr.Roger to a "house party" that was nothing of the sort. Instead, it was a "small gathering" of 4 people, (that soon turned to 3), doing, what I can only describe, as getting completely smashed. Seeing as I had drived, with no intention of drinking etcetera, I didn't really think I would enjoy it.
And I didn't. Well, I did, and I didn't. It's hard to explain. There was me and Mr.Roger, one of the lesbians from the Letchworth Garden City drama school and 2 other people I had never met. One of them was also called Tom, and he spent the whole night, flirting outrageously with both the girls present. One of them, wasn't interested, for obvious reasons and the other one wasn't interested either, because she seemed to be interested in someone else.... Yeah... me. I have to admit I did enjoy a bit of attention... Any guy would right? But not too much...
Now, usually, I'd find it quite flattering and I would get a bit nervous about the situation, I tried to play the "not bothered" card for as long as possible. She said I had nice eyes and a nice body, just all the cringeworthy stuff that made me feel as uncomfortable as possible. She was wearing a hoody and jeans, (that seemed to disappear by 3am?) and had drunk a fair bit, but was what I would call, "a good drunk". However, that was when I had turned up at 11.30...
By 1am, she had added me on facebook, somehow managed to get my mobile number and had flirted with me unbelievably for the whole amount of time. I'm not boasting about this fact, as I found out she turns 17 in a couple of weeks, which makes her 16... Not cool. As this awkward night continued, with the other Tom failing amazingly in his efforts to charm anyone, embarrassing himself, and me, trying not to embarrass myself for completely different reasons, it started to become a bit alarming. As she drunk more and more, she became more and more ... clingy? I don't know, but by 2am, she was asleep on me and by 3am, I had had enough. Out of there. Despite her best efforts, which were surprisingly strong efforts, to keep me there, I had to leave.
Nothing dodgy happened. Just thought I'd throw that in there, just in case you were getting the wrong impression!
Still, at least it's better than running around after drunk customers and listening to the droning of The Wall talk about is fake degree from fake university because you're too dumb and now you work in a petrol station, with no hope of a future. I do have hope, thanks!
Back to normality tomorrow night, before the County Cup football match on Sunday which I will no doubt have no interest in, as usual. But this night, and the day before, has certainly been a strange one.
But it's good to have one of those every once in a while!
Ciao x
It was roughly 11.15am by that time, and I managed to get a few hours sleep, up until 2pm, when I heard another 'ring ring'. It was my mobile. I was groggy, so didn't bother looking at who was ringing and said, 'Hello?' ... big mistake. It was the Goddess of All Evil, asking me to work a double shift because the PM staff hadn't turned up. The Grumpy One in fact. I made a shifty compromise and said I'd do it if he would do my night shift.
Result. I did the 2pm-10pm shift and didn't have to endure the tyranny of the Wall or the 1st instalment of the hideous weekend papers, (which should be being worked right about now!). I'm back on nights tomorrow however, so I cannot escape the dreaded extra hour due to a change in GMT, and also, I need to stay awake a little longer, despite the night I have had.
Now, I must explain, my original plan was to come home and relax and chill out, maybe listen to a bit of Annie Mac, maybe go to sleep at 3am? Proper chill out, is what I felt I needed. However, I was coaxed out by Mr.Roger to a "house party" that was nothing of the sort. Instead, it was a "small gathering" of 4 people, (that soon turned to 3), doing, what I can only describe, as getting completely smashed. Seeing as I had drived, with no intention of drinking etcetera, I didn't really think I would enjoy it.
And I didn't. Well, I did, and I didn't. It's hard to explain. There was me and Mr.Roger, one of the lesbians from the Letchworth Garden City drama school and 2 other people I had never met. One of them was also called Tom, and he spent the whole night, flirting outrageously with both the girls present. One of them, wasn't interested, for obvious reasons and the other one wasn't interested either, because she seemed to be interested in someone else.... Yeah... me. I have to admit I did enjoy a bit of attention... Any guy would right? But not too much...
Now, usually, I'd find it quite flattering and I would get a bit nervous about the situation, I tried to play the "not bothered" card for as long as possible. She said I had nice eyes and a nice body, just all the cringeworthy stuff that made me feel as uncomfortable as possible. She was wearing a hoody and jeans, (that seemed to disappear by 3am?) and had drunk a fair bit, but was what I would call, "a good drunk". However, that was when I had turned up at 11.30...
By 1am, she had added me on facebook, somehow managed to get my mobile number and had flirted with me unbelievably for the whole amount of time. I'm not boasting about this fact, as I found out she turns 17 in a couple of weeks, which makes her 16... Not cool. As this awkward night continued, with the other Tom failing amazingly in his efforts to charm anyone, embarrassing himself, and me, trying not to embarrass myself for completely different reasons, it started to become a bit alarming. As she drunk more and more, she became more and more ... clingy? I don't know, but by 2am, she was asleep on me and by 3am, I had had enough. Out of there. Despite her best efforts, which were surprisingly strong efforts, to keep me there, I had to leave.
Nothing dodgy happened. Just thought I'd throw that in there, just in case you were getting the wrong impression!
Still, at least it's better than running around after drunk customers and listening to the droning of The Wall talk about is fake degree from fake university because you're too dumb and now you work in a petrol station, with no hope of a future. I do have hope, thanks!
Back to normality tomorrow night, before the County Cup football match on Sunday which I will no doubt have no interest in, as usual. But this night, and the day before, has certainly been a strange one.
But it's good to have one of those every once in a while!
Ciao x
Friday 29 October 2010
Sleeping In A Call Centre
Jesus, how many times does the phone want to ring...? Once is fair do's, it happens, twice, likewise. 3 times, starts to get annoying, 4 times is just frustrating, 5 times is just ridiculously stupid and 6 ... well, someone out there doesn't like me.
And I only went to sleep 35 minutes ago. So I thought, f*** it I'll stay awake for a bit longer. I'll come on here to vent my frustrations instead of lying wide awake listening to the ring ring of the phone every 5 minutes. 3 of those occasions were the SAME Estate Agent asking where my Grandmother's bungalow was. Seriously, he has to be the worst Estate Agent I've ever heard about if he can't place a house.
Yep, Mother and Uncle Mitten have decided they're going to sell the outdated little bungalow on the corner of Haylands Way to some sucker ... I mean ... lovely person who will look after the old thing and maybe update it a bit.
I'm very tired aswell. There goes the phone again, I don't joke. 7 times.... I think it's my Mother's work colleague who has got bored at work after an hour and a half and decided to have a high volume chat with a lot of gasps and shrieks. Seriously, if that phone starts ringing once more, especially when I've got to sleep, I will go down and snap the cable. With my teeth. Anything, for a bit of sleep!
And it's not as if I've got it easy tonight either. Some egid who did the rotas forgot to add a 3rd person for tonight and tomorrow night, so I'm stuck doing EVERYTHING on the 2 busiest nights of the week with the moodiest manager of them all coming in, in the morning. Incidentally, she was in a fairly good mood AGAIN this morning, which is as rare as an Edwin Van De Sar hat-trick, but I'm fairly convinced it was because everything was in good order.
Tomorrow, they most certainly won't be, which means cue depressing manager. I won't take it.
Interest is also gathering in the 'BP Crimbo Do' which doesn't make any sense. The place has to be open 24/7, so surely everyone can't go? Still, I'm making sure I'm in attendance even if I have to skip work for it! I need a party at the moment and to let my hair down, (even if it is fairly short), and no one is going to stand in my way. I've heard the rumours about work do's anyway...
Right, Mother Mitten is off the phone, for the 7th time this morning and HOPEFULLY, (although I'm not holding out much hope), there is no one else that could possibly ring! Sleep very much needed, otherwise I'm not making it to work tonight, let alone football training.
'Ring, ring'.... Oh no....
x
And I only went to sleep 35 minutes ago. So I thought, f*** it I'll stay awake for a bit longer. I'll come on here to vent my frustrations instead of lying wide awake listening to the ring ring of the phone every 5 minutes. 3 of those occasions were the SAME Estate Agent asking where my Grandmother's bungalow was. Seriously, he has to be the worst Estate Agent I've ever heard about if he can't place a house.
Yep, Mother and Uncle Mitten have decided they're going to sell the outdated little bungalow on the corner of Haylands Way to some sucker ... I mean ... lovely person who will look after the old thing and maybe update it a bit.
I'm very tired aswell. There goes the phone again, I don't joke. 7 times.... I think it's my Mother's work colleague who has got bored at work after an hour and a half and decided to have a high volume chat with a lot of gasps and shrieks. Seriously, if that phone starts ringing once more, especially when I've got to sleep, I will go down and snap the cable. With my teeth. Anything, for a bit of sleep!
And it's not as if I've got it easy tonight either. Some egid who did the rotas forgot to add a 3rd person for tonight and tomorrow night, so I'm stuck doing EVERYTHING on the 2 busiest nights of the week with the moodiest manager of them all coming in, in the morning. Incidentally, she was in a fairly good mood AGAIN this morning, which is as rare as an Edwin Van De Sar hat-trick, but I'm fairly convinced it was because everything was in good order.
Tomorrow, they most certainly won't be, which means cue depressing manager. I won't take it.
Interest is also gathering in the 'BP Crimbo Do' which doesn't make any sense. The place has to be open 24/7, so surely everyone can't go? Still, I'm making sure I'm in attendance even if I have to skip work for it! I need a party at the moment and to let my hair down, (even if it is fairly short), and no one is going to stand in my way. I've heard the rumours about work do's anyway...
Right, Mother Mitten is off the phone, for the 7th time this morning and HOPEFULLY, (although I'm not holding out much hope), there is no one else that could possibly ring! Sleep very much needed, otherwise I'm not making it to work tonight, let alone football training.
'Ring, ring'.... Oh no....
x
Thursday 28 October 2010
Cheery on A Winter's Morning?
It is absolutely freezing. However, everyone seems to be in an almost cringeworthy cheerful mood this morning. Mostly, 6am is a time where people are rather grumpy and harrumph a lot at the idea of another working day that lies ahead of them.
But this morning was rather different. Every single customer had a noticeable smile on their face from 5am onwards, the morning staff that come in were cracking jokes and laughing a lot and even the Goddess of All Evil was happy this morning. That really is a rarity. She was joking and laughing along with the rest of them, which makes me think, have I missed something here?
I can't think of anything pleasant coming up. Maybe it's the fact they all get an extra hours sleep on Saturday night, (by the way, that extra hour you all get, will be spent working for me!), or maybe its the prospect of Halloween? But any adult, normally, is fed up at the idea of kids coming knocking on your door demanding pleasantries with a punishment of eggs on your window if you fail to coincide... So what is it?!
I can't work it out. When I left work to come home, admittedly with a smile on my own face but that's more because I didn't get the usual early morning grumpiness that I usually recieve, I came home to find that Father Mitten had gone already and Mother Mitten was awake, doing the hoovering. Now, she may have just lost it, or she is very busy at the moment, and she admitted, also with a laugh and a smile on her face, that it is the latter. But these things deserve a frown or a grumpy attitude not a smile!? What am I missing?!?
Ok, I give up. Something must have happened this morning to make everyone so cheery and maybe I will find out later, or maybe it is just, "one of those things".
I bet it won't last long. I'll go to work tonight, thinking that everyone is happy and I'll be greeted with a bunch of sodding grumpy gits and then the Goddess of All Evil will blame me for a speck of dust that has appeared on the floor and things will be back to normal. HURRAH!
I still don't get it though.
Cya x
But this morning was rather different. Every single customer had a noticeable smile on their face from 5am onwards, the morning staff that come in were cracking jokes and laughing a lot and even the Goddess of All Evil was happy this morning. That really is a rarity. She was joking and laughing along with the rest of them, which makes me think, have I missed something here?
I can't think of anything pleasant coming up. Maybe it's the fact they all get an extra hours sleep on Saturday night, (by the way, that extra hour you all get, will be spent working for me!), or maybe its the prospect of Halloween? But any adult, normally, is fed up at the idea of kids coming knocking on your door demanding pleasantries with a punishment of eggs on your window if you fail to coincide... So what is it?!
I can't work it out. When I left work to come home, admittedly with a smile on my own face but that's more because I didn't get the usual early morning grumpiness that I usually recieve, I came home to find that Father Mitten had gone already and Mother Mitten was awake, doing the hoovering. Now, she may have just lost it, or she is very busy at the moment, and she admitted, also with a laugh and a smile on her face, that it is the latter. But these things deserve a frown or a grumpy attitude not a smile!? What am I missing?!?
Ok, I give up. Something must have happened this morning to make everyone so cheery and maybe I will find out later, or maybe it is just, "one of those things".
I bet it won't last long. I'll go to work tonight, thinking that everyone is happy and I'll be greeted with a bunch of sodding grumpy gits and then the Goddess of All Evil will blame me for a speck of dust that has appeared on the floor and things will be back to normal. HURRAH!
I still don't get it though.
Cya x
Wednesday 27 October 2010
Thoughts Of A Confused Panda
I'll get to that.
So, my 2nd of 2 nights and I have to admit it hasn't been so bad. I've had people to talk to, things to do, (sort of), and seeing as it's now 05:09, I suppose it's gone fairly quickly even if there have been a few revelations from a few people.
I blogged last time out about making noise when normal people are asleep and I have pretty much spent all night doing the same, despite my best efforts of getting everything I needed before the Senior Mittens went to sleep, but it didn't turn out that way. I ended up going to McDonalds, (yes... again...), and then for a bit of a midnight drive after that which turned out to be more invigorating than I had first imagined.
Other than that, I have spent all night sat on here talking to people, mainly Beddoe as he is pulling an all-nighter that has no reasoning behind it at all. I know how he feels.
And it is him that this blog is about this evening. No, I'm not about to give you the life story of the angriest person I know or the list of all the times his Facebook account gets hacked into, because we would literally be here until the Olympic Games has it's opening ceremony in London..
No, not all of that, but instead the contents of his thoughts, which I have bought from his brain at the price of a bottle of vodka and a shot of Apple Sourz, about a situation at which he finds himself stuck in the middle of. Bless poor Beddoe, is not used to the attention of the opposite gender and despite him being brave enough to admit to her of his feelings, more than I could ever do, he feels he has been somewhat left in the dark.
So much so, that at the moment he has gone beserk and started quoting Bon Jovi songs at me...
No, I will be serious. He feels that this mystery girl, who sometimes reads this blog, sometimes doesn't, although I will do my best to point her in the right direction, hasn't told him everything. Exactly what she thinks. Exactly what she feels, and he feels he deserves the explanation that will shape his life for years to come. Oh dear, what have I become!
Not years to come, that makes it sound like marriage and if that happens, then I will have to get my best man speech ready and I fear it won't be funny.
So, if you are reading this, note that it was my idea to let you know of his thoughts. Just a sidenote, why they use birds as codewords I don't know, but it won't be long before they're announcing their albatross and the birth of their sparrow..
I hope I have just done you a favour Mr B. And Mrs. B! (hello!), but if I've just ruined your life for all eternity, I may buy you both a drink. Possibly. Maybe.
But now, seeing as it's 5:36, (that time went fast!), I might go to sleep in a bit so I can have a bit of a normal evening tomorrow before the incredibly long week begins. Made even longer by the fact I will have to work the hour of 1am-2am TWICE on Saturday as the clocks go back. Watching the clock say 1am, and then an hour later say, 1am - will be the most depressing thing on Earth. 1 hour's sleep more for most people, but for me, 1 hour's more work! Great! Not.
Good luck Mr. B!
Cya x
So, my 2nd of 2 nights and I have to admit it hasn't been so bad. I've had people to talk to, things to do, (sort of), and seeing as it's now 05:09, I suppose it's gone fairly quickly even if there have been a few revelations from a few people.
I blogged last time out about making noise when normal people are asleep and I have pretty much spent all night doing the same, despite my best efforts of getting everything I needed before the Senior Mittens went to sleep, but it didn't turn out that way. I ended up going to McDonalds, (yes... again...), and then for a bit of a midnight drive after that which turned out to be more invigorating than I had first imagined.
Other than that, I have spent all night sat on here talking to people, mainly Beddoe as he is pulling an all-nighter that has no reasoning behind it at all. I know how he feels.
And it is him that this blog is about this evening. No, I'm not about to give you the life story of the angriest person I know or the list of all the times his Facebook account gets hacked into, because we would literally be here until the Olympic Games has it's opening ceremony in London..
No, not all of that, but instead the contents of his thoughts, which I have bought from his brain at the price of a bottle of vodka and a shot of Apple Sourz, about a situation at which he finds himself stuck in the middle of. Bless poor Beddoe, is not used to the attention of the opposite gender and despite him being brave enough to admit to her of his feelings, more than I could ever do, he feels he has been somewhat left in the dark.
So much so, that at the moment he has gone beserk and started quoting Bon Jovi songs at me...
No, I will be serious. He feels that this mystery girl, who sometimes reads this blog, sometimes doesn't, although I will do my best to point her in the right direction, hasn't told him everything. Exactly what she thinks. Exactly what she feels, and he feels he deserves the explanation that will shape his life for years to come. Oh dear, what have I become!
Not years to come, that makes it sound like marriage and if that happens, then I will have to get my best man speech ready and I fear it won't be funny.
So, if you are reading this, note that it was my idea to let you know of his thoughts. Just a sidenote, why they use birds as codewords I don't know, but it won't be long before they're announcing their albatross and the birth of their sparrow..
I hope I have just done you a favour Mr B. And Mrs. B! (hello!), but if I've just ruined your life for all eternity, I may buy you both a drink. Possibly. Maybe.
But now, seeing as it's 5:36, (that time went fast!), I might go to sleep in a bit so I can have a bit of a normal evening tomorrow before the incredibly long week begins. Made even longer by the fact I will have to work the hour of 1am-2am TWICE on Saturday as the clocks go back. Watching the clock say 1am, and then an hour later say, 1am - will be the most depressing thing on Earth. 1 hour's sleep more for most people, but for me, 1 hour's more work! Great! Not.
Good luck Mr. B!
Cya x
Tuesday 26 October 2010
Making A Noise
There are positives and negatives with being awake at the nocturnal time of day. The negatives of course are that you are asleep when everyone else is awake and vice versa and asleep when it is warmer and awake when it is bloody freezing! Like tonight! I am under the duvet except for my arms whilst I type this. A cold winter ahead.
The positives though are not so obvious. It's quiet, no one is annoying you with stupid anecdotes or requests and the noise is nothing except for the noise you want to hear. A bit of music and the sound of myself eating food, which is lovely. But noise is something I am quite conscious of. Every time I go downstairs, (which is a fair few times as I easily get the early morning munchies), I try so desperately hard not to make a noise and then inadvertantly step on a creaky floorboard. And seeing as this house is older than Picasso's great-grandfather, that's pretty much all of them. After a few years of doing this, you soon work out where to step on each stair to make the least amount of noise, but when you're in a rush, (why would I be at such a time of day?), then you can easily step on the wrong part...
"Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak"
That makes it sound like there is a mouse under there, which I don't think there is. Yet, earlier, I was in a rush, as a rather drunk friend or 3 reckoned that I would still be awake and they would like to entertain me with their drunken thoughts of a few people, so each time I needed to go outside, in the freezing temperatures, so I wouldn't awake Father Mitten, who tends to get rather annoyed if he is woken up at ridiculous o'clock.
Those were interesting conversations, just in case you were wondering. I wonder how many of you can remember exactly what you said? Even, if you WANT to remember exactly what you said?
Still, it's a rare chance for me to talk to someone this evening as, surprisingly, there aren't many people around this evening. A few late hardcores coming in from a monday night-out, (yep, students), and that's that.
5am now, nearest makes no difference, and it's been OK tonight. Gone quite quickly, had a bit of entertainment, all good. I might go to sleep in a minute and make something of tomorrow where normal people exist.
Or maybe I'll just stick on a film?
In A Bit x
The positives though are not so obvious. It's quiet, no one is annoying you with stupid anecdotes or requests and the noise is nothing except for the noise you want to hear. A bit of music and the sound of myself eating food, which is lovely. But noise is something I am quite conscious of. Every time I go downstairs, (which is a fair few times as I easily get the early morning munchies), I try so desperately hard not to make a noise and then inadvertantly step on a creaky floorboard. And seeing as this house is older than Picasso's great-grandfather, that's pretty much all of them. After a few years of doing this, you soon work out where to step on each stair to make the least amount of noise, but when you're in a rush, (why would I be at such a time of day?), then you can easily step on the wrong part...
"Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak"
That makes it sound like there is a mouse under there, which I don't think there is. Yet, earlier, I was in a rush, as a rather drunk friend or 3 reckoned that I would still be awake and they would like to entertain me with their drunken thoughts of a few people, so each time I needed to go outside, in the freezing temperatures, so I wouldn't awake Father Mitten, who tends to get rather annoyed if he is woken up at ridiculous o'clock.
Those were interesting conversations, just in case you were wondering. I wonder how many of you can remember exactly what you said? Even, if you WANT to remember exactly what you said?
Still, it's a rare chance for me to talk to someone this evening as, surprisingly, there aren't many people around this evening. A few late hardcores coming in from a monday night-out, (yep, students), and that's that.
5am now, nearest makes no difference, and it's been OK tonight. Gone quite quickly, had a bit of entertainment, all good. I might go to sleep in a minute and make something of tomorrow where normal people exist.
Or maybe I'll just stick on a film?
In A Bit x
Monday 25 October 2010
It's A Knockout!
I admitted in yesterday's post that I really couldn't be bothered with football this morning, and once again, it turned out I should of stayed in bed but for more reasons than last week!
Last week, it was simply a case of not having to do anything and despite not having to do anything this week either, there was one incident that will stick out in my mind. Or maybe not. 60 minutes had gone, we were in cruise control, 3-0 up and coasting to victory. Maybe sleeping a bit, our defence let their striker through on goal and I came rushing out. I knew it was going to be close, 50-50 in who would get to the ball first, and I knew exactly what was coming. Some would call it bravery, others stupidity, but with the voice of Father Mitten from previous seasons ringing in my head, ("Don't go in head first!"), I shifted my weight sideways as much as possible and dived in..
.. I have no idea who got there first. I imagine it was me as if I hadn't, I would of given away a penalty and a probable red card, because I made as much contact with the striker as was humanly possible. Crunch. I felt something, not sure what, hit me on the side of the head and that was that. Out cold. I'm not certain how long I was out for, but it couldn't of been a long time but when I came round, I was nowhere. Dazed and feeling about 4 different injuries, I struggled to stay with it for the remainder of the match. I was still spitting blood at the final whistle and can still feel the inside of my mouth exploding as I type this.
We won 3-0, but I couldn't care less. I had to go to work tonight, and despite being in a strangely good mood from start to finish, I kept discovering fresh injuries around my body. They must have been from that collision. Numerous cuts on my right hand, bruised ribs and a strange sort of cut along my stomach including a banging headache all night doesn't make for a good recipe but somehow I managed to stay in a jovial enough mood to see out the shift.
A long week ahead also as I've got the dreaded 5-night week this week. Sigh.. No point changing the sleeping pattern so I imagine some thought-provoking blogs coming in the next couple of days, as I live the nights away.
Something else aswell, completely off topic, is laughter. I can only think of one case in the past few months where I've had such a good time, with laughter and smiles. That was last Thursday's adventure with Beans, but other than that, I can't think of another fun/funny time.. I miss the laughter. Laughter is good.
Still, no laughter is better than a body which might aswell be one large bruise.
Laters x
Last week, it was simply a case of not having to do anything and despite not having to do anything this week either, there was one incident that will stick out in my mind. Or maybe not. 60 minutes had gone, we were in cruise control, 3-0 up and coasting to victory. Maybe sleeping a bit, our defence let their striker through on goal and I came rushing out. I knew it was going to be close, 50-50 in who would get to the ball first, and I knew exactly what was coming. Some would call it bravery, others stupidity, but with the voice of Father Mitten from previous seasons ringing in my head, ("Don't go in head first!"), I shifted my weight sideways as much as possible and dived in..
.. I have no idea who got there first. I imagine it was me as if I hadn't, I would of given away a penalty and a probable red card, because I made as much contact with the striker as was humanly possible. Crunch. I felt something, not sure what, hit me on the side of the head and that was that. Out cold. I'm not certain how long I was out for, but it couldn't of been a long time but when I came round, I was nowhere. Dazed and feeling about 4 different injuries, I struggled to stay with it for the remainder of the match. I was still spitting blood at the final whistle and can still feel the inside of my mouth exploding as I type this.
We won 3-0, but I couldn't care less. I had to go to work tonight, and despite being in a strangely good mood from start to finish, I kept discovering fresh injuries around my body. They must have been from that collision. Numerous cuts on my right hand, bruised ribs and a strange sort of cut along my stomach including a banging headache all night doesn't make for a good recipe but somehow I managed to stay in a jovial enough mood to see out the shift.
A long week ahead also as I've got the dreaded 5-night week this week. Sigh.. No point changing the sleeping pattern so I imagine some thought-provoking blogs coming in the next couple of days, as I live the nights away.
Something else aswell, completely off topic, is laughter. I can only think of one case in the past few months where I've had such a good time, with laughter and smiles. That was last Thursday's adventure with Beans, but other than that, I can't think of another fun/funny time.. I miss the laughter. Laughter is good.
Still, no laughter is better than a body which might aswell be one large bruise.
Laters x
Sunday 24 October 2010
A Wayward Traveller
My, my, Saturday night. It doesn't seem yesterday that I was talking about our unprecedented vacation thanks to the suitcase full of soil last Saturday, but here we are, once again, talking of another unprecedented Saturday nights.
They no longer seem to be that busy. Taken over by the mayhem of Fridays, Saturdays have instantly become sort-of... quiet. You get a few drunks in occasionally but come 3am, it falls silent. Only for the occasional cabbie to come in and pay for their fuel in 20ps, or a hardcore party-goer wanting to find more alcohol, which, of course, they won't find in BP!
Tonight though, we had a different sort of customer. Not even a customer, just a ... person. He came in, wearing the sort of clothes usually found in a circus tent or a fancy dress party and came to the counter, and talked to The Wall.
Man : Can I ask a favour?
Wall: Yes. (Notice the blank reply.. That's the blanks canvas of The Wall in full flow!)
Man: I'm very lost and I'm many miles away from home. Is it OK If I borrow one your cars so I can get home for my Brother's wedding which is this afternoon?
Wall: Tom? You know I don't drive, but can this guy borrow your car to get home?
I'm serious. He genuinely asked me, seriously, if this randomer could "borrow" my car. I was polite in answering the man, "No I'm afraid not, I need it tomorrow." The man, who probably knew what answer was coming, faded out the shop, and then I turned on the Wall.
Me: Are you f****** insane?? Like I'm going to lend my car to a complete randomer.
Wall: Well, it's a reasonable request.
Me: Yeah right, as if he's going to bring it back. As if I'm gonna say, "Yeah certainly, there's the key, help yourself!" ... moron!
It was incredible and if that man actually convinced someone that he was going to bring the car back after using it, then he deserves the car.
Talking of travellers, Sister Mitten has returned to the household for a "surprise visit", (which also probably includes a hamper full of dirty washing!), and of course, the bathroom has now become a "no go zone" as it is full of beauty products and the like. Welcome back!
Football aswell this morning. I reallyyyy can't be bothered. Genuinely. It's too much effort after a difficult night, (that also included those bastard Sunday papers, remember) and I just want to sleep. But obviously, the team comes first, as does my head, as it would probably be knocked off it's shoulders by an angry father/coach. So tired.
But at least I still have a car!
Cya x
They no longer seem to be that busy. Taken over by the mayhem of Fridays, Saturdays have instantly become sort-of... quiet. You get a few drunks in occasionally but come 3am, it falls silent. Only for the occasional cabbie to come in and pay for their fuel in 20ps, or a hardcore party-goer wanting to find more alcohol, which, of course, they won't find in BP!
Tonight though, we had a different sort of customer. Not even a customer, just a ... person. He came in, wearing the sort of clothes usually found in a circus tent or a fancy dress party and came to the counter, and talked to The Wall.
Man : Can I ask a favour?
Wall: Yes. (Notice the blank reply.. That's the blanks canvas of The Wall in full flow!)
Man: I'm very lost and I'm many miles away from home. Is it OK If I borrow one your cars so I can get home for my Brother's wedding which is this afternoon?
Wall: Tom? You know I don't drive, but can this guy borrow your car to get home?
I'm serious. He genuinely asked me, seriously, if this randomer could "borrow" my car. I was polite in answering the man, "No I'm afraid not, I need it tomorrow." The man, who probably knew what answer was coming, faded out the shop, and then I turned on the Wall.
Me: Are you f****** insane?? Like I'm going to lend my car to a complete randomer.
Wall: Well, it's a reasonable request.
Me: Yeah right, as if he's going to bring it back. As if I'm gonna say, "Yeah certainly, there's the key, help yourself!" ... moron!
It was incredible and if that man actually convinced someone that he was going to bring the car back after using it, then he deserves the car.
Talking of travellers, Sister Mitten has returned to the household for a "surprise visit", (which also probably includes a hamper full of dirty washing!), and of course, the bathroom has now become a "no go zone" as it is full of beauty products and the like. Welcome back!
Football aswell this morning. I reallyyyy can't be bothered. Genuinely. It's too much effort after a difficult night, (that also included those bastard Sunday papers, remember) and I just want to sleep. But obviously, the team comes first, as does my head, as it would probably be knocked off it's shoulders by an angry father/coach. So tired.
But at least I still have a car!
Cya x
Saturday 23 October 2010
Frustration
I do feel like the only person putting in any sort of effort during the nights. Friday and Saturday nights mean we have 3 people up until 2am, and then me and The Wall from then on. Of course, The Wall is currently incapable of anything but sitting behind a till, so the plan is to get as much done before 2am as possible, leaving me with not as much to do, on my own.
However, the people we are joined by are compeltely useless. Useless and lazy. One of them is a foreign student, who works 40 hours at BP and also works at McDonalds, (which by the way is 100% illegal.) No foreign student can work 20 hours a week, let alone 40+. The main problem is though, this person is the laziest person I've ever had the misfortune to meet. The Wall is annoying but he does the jobs, however slowly, but this man just doesn't. He makes it look like he's doing it, but he doesn't do anything. When it came to 2am, Mr.Lazy had ran off when I realised he hadn't done a single thing. He was supposed to re-stock the crisps, an easy task, but I noticed they were as empty, (if not, somehow MORE empty), than when I had walked in at the start of my shift. Bastard.
And of course, who got the blame for that? Yep. The Goddess of All Evil was not in a good mood this morning and decided to blame me for the incompletion of the tasks. I went on the offensive and said it was "a f****** joke" that I was being blamed. I was furious. Somehow, it worked. On paper, she should have gone nuts, but she sort of agreed with me? I don't know what goes through her head. But I don't think Mr.Lazy will be in for a good time.
And to top it all off, the first instalment of those nasty weekend papers. They weren't so bad today. Half of them came at 5am, so it was good to get them out the way, but the other half didn't come till 5:50am, and I didn't get out till 6.30... Never mind... tomorrow is going to be awful. Mr Lazy is on till 2am again, and I might just have to get tough with him. He's going to have to pull his weight sooner or later. Either that, or he can get back on his boat to Sri Lanka or wherever he came from..
I'm tired now. I awoke at 1pm yesterday afternoon, so I've been awake for .... 18 hours now. However, I need to stay awake for a little longer so I wake up as late as possible tomorrow, so I'm awake enough for football on Sunday. Good planning.
I've got 4 weeks of The Wall being a cripple. 4 more weeks of papers, but also 4 weeks until I'm off to have a much needed party. How I'd love that to be next week...
Bye x
However, the people we are joined by are compeltely useless. Useless and lazy. One of them is a foreign student, who works 40 hours at BP and also works at McDonalds, (which by the way is 100% illegal.) No foreign student can work 20 hours a week, let alone 40+. The main problem is though, this person is the laziest person I've ever had the misfortune to meet. The Wall is annoying but he does the jobs, however slowly, but this man just doesn't. He makes it look like he's doing it, but he doesn't do anything. When it came to 2am, Mr.Lazy had ran off when I realised he hadn't done a single thing. He was supposed to re-stock the crisps, an easy task, but I noticed they were as empty, (if not, somehow MORE empty), than when I had walked in at the start of my shift. Bastard.
And of course, who got the blame for that? Yep. The Goddess of All Evil was not in a good mood this morning and decided to blame me for the incompletion of the tasks. I went on the offensive and said it was "a f****** joke" that I was being blamed. I was furious. Somehow, it worked. On paper, she should have gone nuts, but she sort of agreed with me? I don't know what goes through her head. But I don't think Mr.Lazy will be in for a good time.
And to top it all off, the first instalment of those nasty weekend papers. They weren't so bad today. Half of them came at 5am, so it was good to get them out the way, but the other half didn't come till 5:50am, and I didn't get out till 6.30... Never mind... tomorrow is going to be awful. Mr Lazy is on till 2am again, and I might just have to get tough with him. He's going to have to pull his weight sooner or later. Either that, or he can get back on his boat to Sri Lanka or wherever he came from..
I'm tired now. I awoke at 1pm yesterday afternoon, so I've been awake for .... 18 hours now. However, I need to stay awake for a little longer so I wake up as late as possible tomorrow, so I'm awake enough for football on Sunday. Good planning.
I've got 4 weeks of The Wall being a cripple. 4 more weeks of papers, but also 4 weeks until I'm off to have a much needed party. How I'd love that to be next week...
Bye x
Thursday 21 October 2010
Hey Fatty Boom Boom!
Coorrrrrrr blimey! I have spent all day, just eating. I'm amazed after today's gorging on what hasn't been the most healthy of foods, that I am now not the size of Johnny Vegas.
I woke up very early this morning. I didn't sleep too great and it was especially cold this morning, so I awoke at 9am. Not very common you see me awake that early unless I've had 20 hours kip preceding it. Mother Mitten had gone to work so I thought I would treat myself to a self-made full English, (or at least as full as my fridge would allow), and it was very nice, thanks! Bacon, Sausage, Eggs and Beans, lovely jubbly!
But then I remembered. I had a pub lunch to attend with the one and only Dr.Dax who resides in Leighton Buzzard. A 45-minute drive up the A421 and round some country roads to have lunch at one of the most beautiful spots the East of England has to offer. A small pub next to the passage of canals, possibly one of the most glorious spots, especially in Summer. I arrived a little early, so took a seat at the edge of the canal, while I awaited Dassy's "Daxo", and did 10 minutes of thinking. Nothing too sinister, just evaluating how the past few months have gone. My conclusions were, average. Still, Dassy arrived and I had a very nice Gammon Steak with chips followed up by the most sumptuous cheesecake imaginable. It was rather costly, but well worth it and it was good to catch up on The Dassman's latest escapades!
The drive home involved getting some much-needed fuel for the car, but I ended up getting more fuel for myself aswell, a couple of chocolate bars to wash down the gammon and cheesecake. I am a self-confessed chocoholic.
But then, beep beep goes the phone. It's Mother Mitten. "Remember to get some light bulbs from Tesco." My light bulb had subsequently gone kaput that morning and of course, I had to get a box of cookies aswell as the needed bulbs. I couldn't help myself! I haven't had many of them mind you, most of them are still lying in the box on my desk. Might help myself to a couple before bed.. I had my regular dinner that Mother Mitten usually cooks aswell, and this evening it was Salmon with even more chips and peas. Lovely. More food. Yep, lovely!
But the ultimate meal came this evening. Me and Beans had decided, a couple of weeks ago apparently, that we were going to go on an adventure to nowhere. Nowhere by the way, is obviously, the City of all Lesbian Drama, Letchworth. Was rather more unspectacular than our last visit, but still good to catch up with a few people and play, "Freak Out!", at full volume, attracting a few surprised and also a few scornful looks! Haha! However, Beans had not eaten and she demanded to stop in the town centre to find some food. We ended up stopping... at a Chinese restaurant. Now, after all the food I had had and my dislike of Chinese food, why I ended up buying a Chicken Wings starter and half a duck, I will never know, but buy it I did and it was especially nice. My dislike of Chinese food it seems, was rather unfair!
So, we came home, at about 10.15 and I dropped Beans off. I was tempted to make 1 last trip to Tesco just to take the pee a bit more, but it was needless. No joke to make when you're making a joke to yourself! Also, more money has disappeared down the drain, after I buyed a whole new tank of fuel and half of it went to Letchworth's roads, and the cost of all this food. But now, as the time is 11.15pm, I think it's time for bed. Goodni...... oh no..... It's Thursday night. That's it. The end of my normal week. Oh no, I'm so, so tired and once again I have to see how long I can stay up for to get a working sleeping pattern back. I hate this bit...
And as I type this, I have a dreadful stomach ache.
It was inevitable, wasn't it?
Cya x
I woke up very early this morning. I didn't sleep too great and it was especially cold this morning, so I awoke at 9am. Not very common you see me awake that early unless I've had 20 hours kip preceding it. Mother Mitten had gone to work so I thought I would treat myself to a self-made full English, (or at least as full as my fridge would allow), and it was very nice, thanks! Bacon, Sausage, Eggs and Beans, lovely jubbly!
But then I remembered. I had a pub lunch to attend with the one and only Dr.Dax who resides in Leighton Buzzard. A 45-minute drive up the A421 and round some country roads to have lunch at one of the most beautiful spots the East of England has to offer. A small pub next to the passage of canals, possibly one of the most glorious spots, especially in Summer. I arrived a little early, so took a seat at the edge of the canal, while I awaited Dassy's "Daxo", and did 10 minutes of thinking. Nothing too sinister, just evaluating how the past few months have gone. My conclusions were, average. Still, Dassy arrived and I had a very nice Gammon Steak with chips followed up by the most sumptuous cheesecake imaginable. It was rather costly, but well worth it and it was good to catch up on The Dassman's latest escapades!
The drive home involved getting some much-needed fuel for the car, but I ended up getting more fuel for myself aswell, a couple of chocolate bars to wash down the gammon and cheesecake. I am a self-confessed chocoholic.
But then, beep beep goes the phone. It's Mother Mitten. "Remember to get some light bulbs from Tesco." My light bulb had subsequently gone kaput that morning and of course, I had to get a box of cookies aswell as the needed bulbs. I couldn't help myself! I haven't had many of them mind you, most of them are still lying in the box on my desk. Might help myself to a couple before bed.. I had my regular dinner that Mother Mitten usually cooks aswell, and this evening it was Salmon with even more chips and peas. Lovely. More food. Yep, lovely!
But the ultimate meal came this evening. Me and Beans had decided, a couple of weeks ago apparently, that we were going to go on an adventure to nowhere. Nowhere by the way, is obviously, the City of all Lesbian Drama, Letchworth. Was rather more unspectacular than our last visit, but still good to catch up with a few people and play, "Freak Out!", at full volume, attracting a few surprised and also a few scornful looks! Haha! However, Beans had not eaten and she demanded to stop in the town centre to find some food. We ended up stopping... at a Chinese restaurant. Now, after all the food I had had and my dislike of Chinese food, why I ended up buying a Chicken Wings starter and half a duck, I will never know, but buy it I did and it was especially nice. My dislike of Chinese food it seems, was rather unfair!
So, we came home, at about 10.15 and I dropped Beans off. I was tempted to make 1 last trip to Tesco just to take the pee a bit more, but it was needless. No joke to make when you're making a joke to yourself! Also, more money has disappeared down the drain, after I buyed a whole new tank of fuel and half of it went to Letchworth's roads, and the cost of all this food. But now, as the time is 11.15pm, I think it's time for bed. Goodni...... oh no..... It's Thursday night. That's it. The end of my normal week. Oh no, I'm so, so tired and once again I have to see how long I can stay up for to get a working sleeping pattern back. I hate this bit...
And as I type this, I have a dreadful stomach ache.
It was inevitable, wasn't it?
Cya x
Wednesday 20 October 2010
Not For The Squeamish
I've had a disgusting day. Better than terribly boring, but er... not very nice.
I suppose it all started at around 1am this morning. Actually ... I've decided you don't want to hear it. Trust me on this one.
Instead, I will talk about my day. As you have probably already worked out, this isn't going to be a long post, so I won't keep you.
I was supposed to be going to Le Cinema with a few people, but the events I have suddenly decided not to talk about changed all that so I have pretty much stayed in all day, suffering from the events I have suddenly decided not to talk about. This event is hampering my blog entry..
I have just come upstairs from watching a fantastic match, in which Spurs somehow narrowly lost to Inter Milan despite being physically assaulted in the first half, but they lost 4-3 thanks to the best hat-trick I have ever seen from the one and only, Gareth Bale.
I do support Manchester United myself. But this season, I just haven't been interested in supporting anyone as I think it's all a bit too.. samey. A bit predictable. I wasn't interested in United tonight, and I'm not bothered that they're going to imminently lose Shrek to someone else. I'm not bothered with professional football anymore, but I do still enjoy watching classics with lots of goals and a red card in them. Any football lover does.
But now, seeing as the 90 minutes are up, I'm left with nothing to do. I might even call it a night as I've got a pub lunch with Dr.Dax to look forward to tomorrow before an epic voyage of epicness with Beans. Wow.. I've actually got something planned.
For now though, cya!
I suppose it all started at around 1am this morning. Actually ... I've decided you don't want to hear it. Trust me on this one.
Instead, I will talk about my day. As you have probably already worked out, this isn't going to be a long post, so I won't keep you.
I was supposed to be going to Le Cinema with a few people, but the events I have suddenly decided not to talk about changed all that so I have pretty much stayed in all day, suffering from the events I have suddenly decided not to talk about. This event is hampering my blog entry..
I have just come upstairs from watching a fantastic match, in which Spurs somehow narrowly lost to Inter Milan despite being physically assaulted in the first half, but they lost 4-3 thanks to the best hat-trick I have ever seen from the one and only, Gareth Bale.
I do support Manchester United myself. But this season, I just haven't been interested in supporting anyone as I think it's all a bit too.. samey. A bit predictable. I wasn't interested in United tonight, and I'm not bothered that they're going to imminently lose Shrek to someone else. I'm not bothered with professional football anymore, but I do still enjoy watching classics with lots of goals and a red card in them. Any football lover does.
But now, seeing as the 90 minutes are up, I'm left with nothing to do. I might even call it a night as I've got a pub lunch with Dr.Dax to look forward to tomorrow before an epic voyage of epicness with Beans. Wow.. I've actually got something planned.
For now though, cya!
Tuesday 19 October 2010
An Improptu Trip to Notts
I have never been as bored as I have today. I awoke at 7am, trying to make the most of my conveted 4 days off without having to complete the same dreary tasks and listen to the dreary Wall or be awake at dreary hours.
However, the whole of today, (well... most of it), has been dreary. Hours upon hours of sitting around, doing nothing in particular. The time was about 2.30pm, and after what seemed like years of perpetual boredom, I decided I needed to make something of my day. I have the money, lets do something.
What I ended up doing, wasn't great. Or very sensible for that matter. I had a strange urge to go to a football match. I looked at the fixture list and saw 2 possibilities. Either Luton Town vs Forest Green Rovers. The sensible option, as it's closer to home and cheaper than the alternative. Nottingham Forest vs Middlesbrough. I chose the latter, and even offered to pay for my friends ticket so I wasn't going alone. Time to make something of my day. I had been to an away match with 'The Boro' once before with Kenny, and it was very good. I was optimistic.
The drive up there was a long one. We got stuck in traffic on those ridiculous M1 roadworks with no one working on them, and no one EVER working on them. Then it thinned out, but we got stuck in more traffic as we hit Nottingham. Probably a stabbist in the middle of the road. When we got there, we had enormous trouble finding the away ticket office. We were sent this way and that, before we finally found it. I asked for 2 adult tickets, as the facial hair meant I couldn't get away with an under-16 ticket, and heard a reply I wasn't expecting...
...."That's £56 then please."
HOW MUCH??? 56 quid?! Considering we've already missed 10 minutes because your stupid staff sent us the wrong way, twice! However, I wasn't prepared to refuse and drive home again so I paid, by card as I didn't have enough cash, and we ran to the gates.
The game itself was a poor one and that's me being kind. Scrappy, poor quality, just dreadful. The Boro striker, Kris Boyd, didn't move an inch and it was generally poor. You know on the TV, when players get subbed, it comes up with a little stat on how far they've run? I.e. Steven Gerrard, 8120m... If Kris Boyd would of got subbed, (which amazingly he didn't), the stat would of read, Kris Boyd: 8m. He was useless. And lazy.
As were Middlesbrough. They lost 1-0 thanks to a fluke of a cross-shot that found it's way in. The sausage roll was poor aswell. And the person who served me it, who gave me £2.30 change when I gave him a tenner and told him the price, because he was too stupid to work it out himself. The whole trip was ridiculous, and I really should have gone to Luton Town. They won 6-1. Damn.
Still, I'm sure it would of been better than if I had not gambled on a match that turned out to be the quality of a sunday league match. I'm sort of happy I took the chance, otherwise I would of considered it a day wasted.
But money wasted? That's a different matter.
Bye x
However, the whole of today, (well... most of it), has been dreary. Hours upon hours of sitting around, doing nothing in particular. The time was about 2.30pm, and after what seemed like years of perpetual boredom, I decided I needed to make something of my day. I have the money, lets do something.
What I ended up doing, wasn't great. Or very sensible for that matter. I had a strange urge to go to a football match. I looked at the fixture list and saw 2 possibilities. Either Luton Town vs Forest Green Rovers. The sensible option, as it's closer to home and cheaper than the alternative. Nottingham Forest vs Middlesbrough. I chose the latter, and even offered to pay for my friends ticket so I wasn't going alone. Time to make something of my day. I had been to an away match with 'The Boro' once before with Kenny, and it was very good. I was optimistic.
The drive up there was a long one. We got stuck in traffic on those ridiculous M1 roadworks with no one working on them, and no one EVER working on them. Then it thinned out, but we got stuck in more traffic as we hit Nottingham. Probably a stabbist in the middle of the road. When we got there, we had enormous trouble finding the away ticket office. We were sent this way and that, before we finally found it. I asked for 2 adult tickets, as the facial hair meant I couldn't get away with an under-16 ticket, and heard a reply I wasn't expecting...
...."That's £56 then please."
HOW MUCH??? 56 quid?! Considering we've already missed 10 minutes because your stupid staff sent us the wrong way, twice! However, I wasn't prepared to refuse and drive home again so I paid, by card as I didn't have enough cash, and we ran to the gates.
The game itself was a poor one and that's me being kind. Scrappy, poor quality, just dreadful. The Boro striker, Kris Boyd, didn't move an inch and it was generally poor. You know on the TV, when players get subbed, it comes up with a little stat on how far they've run? I.e. Steven Gerrard, 8120m... If Kris Boyd would of got subbed, (which amazingly he didn't), the stat would of read, Kris Boyd: 8m. He was useless. And lazy.
As were Middlesbrough. They lost 1-0 thanks to a fluke of a cross-shot that found it's way in. The sausage roll was poor aswell. And the person who served me it, who gave me £2.30 change when I gave him a tenner and told him the price, because he was too stupid to work it out himself. The whole trip was ridiculous, and I really should have gone to Luton Town. They won 6-1. Damn.
Still, I'm sure it would of been better than if I had not gambled on a match that turned out to be the quality of a sunday league match. I'm sort of happy I took the chance, otherwise I would of considered it a day wasted.
But money wasted? That's a different matter.
Bye x
Monday 18 October 2010
Dead Days
I felt horrific this evening. The worst I've ever felt at work, especially at the beginning. I felt so rough, headache... sick ... even an earache which takes me back to when I was a child and my problems with hearing! Still, I could hear well enough and all I could hear was, "Tonight's going to be a long one..." and who's voice was that? Of course it was.
I had to do everything tonight. Everything. Re-stock everything, the baking and the worst job of all, returning the papers. I had spent almost an hour and a half hauling the most amazing pile of newspapers around on Sunday morning and, surprise surprise, no one had bought any! So they all had to be hauled back into bags, 7 of them, and returned to the disgusted Geordie bloke in the morning.
I was glad when it came to 6am. It was horribly slow, and I felt a little drunk with the tiredness and feeling ill, I was all over the place. As I stepped into my car, feeling the drizzling rain creep down my neck, munching on my hot Bacon muffin, I breathed a sigh of relief. 4 days off, lovely.
But is it lovely? I hate work, but I don't know if I like being off at the moment. There is very little to do, especially as the nights creep ever closer to midday, and very few people to do anything with, so my days are going to be spent being horribly bored. The only good thing I can take is, if I manage to stay awake for most of today, that I can sleep at a normal time. However, my eyes are weary already and it's only 7:40am.. I might not be lasting that long..
I wish for something to happen this week. Or is it a case of I have to go out and make something happen? Instead of things coming to me, maybe I should go to them?
Maybe a little surprise is in order for a certain university student?
;)
I had to do everything tonight. Everything. Re-stock everything, the baking and the worst job of all, returning the papers. I had spent almost an hour and a half hauling the most amazing pile of newspapers around on Sunday morning and, surprise surprise, no one had bought any! So they all had to be hauled back into bags, 7 of them, and returned to the disgusted Geordie bloke in the morning.
I was glad when it came to 6am. It was horribly slow, and I felt a little drunk with the tiredness and feeling ill, I was all over the place. As I stepped into my car, feeling the drizzling rain creep down my neck, munching on my hot Bacon muffin, I breathed a sigh of relief. 4 days off, lovely.
But is it lovely? I hate work, but I don't know if I like being off at the moment. There is very little to do, especially as the nights creep ever closer to midday, and very few people to do anything with, so my days are going to be spent being horribly bored. The only good thing I can take is, if I manage to stay awake for most of today, that I can sleep at a normal time. However, my eyes are weary already and it's only 7:40am.. I might not be lasting that long..
I wish for something to happen this week. Or is it a case of I have to go out and make something happen? Instead of things coming to me, maybe I should go to them?
Maybe a little surprise is in order for a certain university student?
;)
Sunday 17 October 2010
The Problem With Red Bull
Red Bull is probably the most famous brand of stimulant drink in the world, and I always buy 2 cans every morning, just to get me through the morning's football match, but when the match is finished, I'd like to go to sleep. But I can't. Still buzzing with energy, so I have to stay awake for a couple of hours, and always, ALWAYS, jog home from football. It takes the energy away..
Take this morning. Away to some team called Black Tom Rangers, we knew nothing about them. They turned out to be fairly ordinary, but we couldn't finish them off and it finished 2-1 to us. Win's a win, but it should of been more. The match was delayed a while due to our Right-mid getting a fairly nasty head injury. We had a vastly depleted squad due to most of our main players went on a voyage to get pissed in Leeds, so it was a chance for some of our fringe players to show what they're worth. We dominated, (I think I touched the ball 6 times throughout the 90 minutes), but couldn't finish them off. Not enough quality.
2 points is 2 points though. We don't get the regular 3 points for a win in this league. It's designed to keep it close, and it works.
Tonight is going to be tough at work. Just the 2 of us, and of course The Wall is practically disabled leaving ALL the tasks for me. On minimal sleep aswell, I cannot wait. Note the sarcasm.
For now though, I'll carry on buzzing away.
Cya x
Take this morning. Away to some team called Black Tom Rangers, we knew nothing about them. They turned out to be fairly ordinary, but we couldn't finish them off and it finished 2-1 to us. Win's a win, but it should of been more. The match was delayed a while due to our Right-mid getting a fairly nasty head injury. We had a vastly depleted squad due to most of our main players went on a voyage to get pissed in Leeds, so it was a chance for some of our fringe players to show what they're worth. We dominated, (I think I touched the ball 6 times throughout the 90 minutes), but couldn't finish them off. Not enough quality.
2 points is 2 points though. We don't get the regular 3 points for a win in this league. It's designed to keep it close, and it works.
Tonight is going to be tough at work. Just the 2 of us, and of course The Wall is practically disabled leaving ALL the tasks for me. On minimal sleep aswell, I cannot wait. Note the sarcasm.
For now though, I'll carry on buzzing away.
Cya x
What's In The Suitcase?
Saturday night again. They do seem to come round awfully quickly these days and as I woke up at 9pm, strangely quickly after I had fallen asleep earlier that morning, I was facing the prospect of another night running around after Mr.Cripple and Mr.Grumpy and I woke up with 'that' feeling. The feeling that we were going to have some major problems tonight...
It wasn't nearly as bad as last time. At least this time I had a modicum of common sense and knowledge of what to do in a potentially dangerous situation. It was midnight, I was halfway through returning the amazing amount of Saturday papers that had not been bought. The amount of effort I put putting them out yesterday and no one wanted them! As I was slaving away, a customer said something. Something interesting..
... "Did you know there is a suitcase unattended out there?"
Err, no we didn't and what's more there was no one around to claim it was there's. We were entering 'Suspicious Package' territory and within minutes we had decided that this could be the worst. Better safe than sorry, we thought unanimously.
So, here we were again, shutting the pumps down, closing the shop, but luckily no fitting co-worker or a fire alarm. It seemed ridiculous, the suitcase looked so innocent and it seemed stupid that we were closing everything for the case of a single bag. Even so, the Police turned up and took our find seriously. We stood outside, by the pub, for a whole hour, contemplating whether to get a coffee from inside, before some idiot, drunk, ran in and picked it up... to find it was full of soil.. Our thoughts that it might have been a bomb were halfway there then!
The manager was there by that time, The Goddess Of All Evil, but even she praised us for our swift and very correct response and she left without a bad word being said. We were stupidly behind schedule, but pleased we had done good in the face of potential adversity!
The rest of the night passed without much hassle, unless you count the AMAZING amount of Sunday papers I had to put out.. Seriously, 116 News of the World's alone along with their supplements and 80 odd Sunday Mails and Sunday Times plus numerous other papers and their magazines, it was back-breaking. I got home at 7am, an hour after I was supposed to, and I doubt I'll get paid for it... I'll probably have to do it next week aswell! Dear me..
Still, football in an hour, and I'm a little more up for it than I have been the last couple of weeks, but that doesn't mean a lot. I still can't be bothered, but it's a feeling I'm now used to. One more, busy, shift before the holy grail of 4 days off rears it's beautiful head once more..
For now though, Cya x
It wasn't nearly as bad as last time. At least this time I had a modicum of common sense and knowledge of what to do in a potentially dangerous situation. It was midnight, I was halfway through returning the amazing amount of Saturday papers that had not been bought. The amount of effort I put putting them out yesterday and no one wanted them! As I was slaving away, a customer said something. Something interesting..
... "Did you know there is a suitcase unattended out there?"
Err, no we didn't and what's more there was no one around to claim it was there's. We were entering 'Suspicious Package' territory and within minutes we had decided that this could be the worst. Better safe than sorry, we thought unanimously.
So, here we were again, shutting the pumps down, closing the shop, but luckily no fitting co-worker or a fire alarm. It seemed ridiculous, the suitcase looked so innocent and it seemed stupid that we were closing everything for the case of a single bag. Even so, the Police turned up and took our find seriously. We stood outside, by the pub, for a whole hour, contemplating whether to get a coffee from inside, before some idiot, drunk, ran in and picked it up... to find it was full of soil.. Our thoughts that it might have been a bomb were halfway there then!
The manager was there by that time, The Goddess Of All Evil, but even she praised us for our swift and very correct response and she left without a bad word being said. We were stupidly behind schedule, but pleased we had done good in the face of potential adversity!
The rest of the night passed without much hassle, unless you count the AMAZING amount of Sunday papers I had to put out.. Seriously, 116 News of the World's alone along with their supplements and 80 odd Sunday Mails and Sunday Times plus numerous other papers and their magazines, it was back-breaking. I got home at 7am, an hour after I was supposed to, and I doubt I'll get paid for it... I'll probably have to do it next week aswell! Dear me..
Still, football in an hour, and I'm a little more up for it than I have been the last couple of weeks, but that doesn't mean a lot. I still can't be bothered, but it's a feeling I'm now used to. One more, busy, shift before the holy grail of 4 days off rears it's beautiful head once more..
For now though, Cya x
Saturday 16 October 2010
Oh, The Horror!
Weekend papers. The horror. Piles upon piles of papers followed by piles upon piles of supplements that one man has to organise, compile, put out and carry, and usually that man is The Wall. But not tonight.
The Wall genuinely does have a dislocated knee, and to be fair to him, he did well to make it to work at all. No way he could do the papers though so this task was left for me! According to the delivery man, a Geordie, it was a "small pile", but if that was small, then I'm Elvis. So many magazines to go into so many papers, (89 The Suns and 74 The Times alone!), and why the hell does The Daily Telegraph need 3 magazines per paper?! How stupid are they! I now firmly believe that supplements were invented to piss people like me off. Sundays papers are notorious for being much more aswell, so I cannot comprehend the pain I will have to face tomorrow..
And to make it worse, I was working on very little sleep. I could not sleep at all. 9am, 10am, 11am, Midday, all passed with me lying awake staring at the ceiling. I was absolutely apoplectic. So much so that I refused to sleep because I reckoned God was taking the mickey out of me and not only until 4pm did I start to feel the slightest bit tired, and even then I didn't get to sleep till 5.45! So it goes without saying, I missed football training and very nearly missed work, until I was woken up at 9:45 by Mother Mitten.
I was the Devil. You did not want to be near me, I was grumpy, annoyed, terribly sad and 100% dreading the night that lay ahead. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, as is usually th case actually, but it was still pretty bad. Tonight isn't going to be much better and as for Sunday.. well.. I'm going to have to do every task. The Wall can't move, so I'm going to have to run around a lot, making what is usually a dead Sunday into a very busy one.
I hurt my shoulder doing those papers aswell. Just a jar of the left shoulder whilst lifting a particularly heavy pile of The Daily Mail. Mr Alex, the manager, was helping me out by this stage and I dropped them in pain. I have sympathy for The Wall. He has to do that every weekend. I don't care how annoying he is, he does a good effort with those papers and, to be brutally honest, he probably deserved to have a little snigger as he hobbled out the door, leaving me to break my back over mountanous papers..
I'm going to have to go, I'm desperately tired. Please, let me go to sleep today! Please..
Until later my friends x
The Wall genuinely does have a dislocated knee, and to be fair to him, he did well to make it to work at all. No way he could do the papers though so this task was left for me! According to the delivery man, a Geordie, it was a "small pile", but if that was small, then I'm Elvis. So many magazines to go into so many papers, (89 The Suns and 74 The Times alone!), and why the hell does The Daily Telegraph need 3 magazines per paper?! How stupid are they! I now firmly believe that supplements were invented to piss people like me off. Sundays papers are notorious for being much more aswell, so I cannot comprehend the pain I will have to face tomorrow..
And to make it worse, I was working on very little sleep. I could not sleep at all. 9am, 10am, 11am, Midday, all passed with me lying awake staring at the ceiling. I was absolutely apoplectic. So much so that I refused to sleep because I reckoned God was taking the mickey out of me and not only until 4pm did I start to feel the slightest bit tired, and even then I didn't get to sleep till 5.45! So it goes without saying, I missed football training and very nearly missed work, until I was woken up at 9:45 by Mother Mitten.
I was the Devil. You did not want to be near me, I was grumpy, annoyed, terribly sad and 100% dreading the night that lay ahead. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, as is usually th case actually, but it was still pretty bad. Tonight isn't going to be much better and as for Sunday.. well.. I'm going to have to do every task. The Wall can't move, so I'm going to have to run around a lot, making what is usually a dead Sunday into a very busy one.
I hurt my shoulder doing those papers aswell. Just a jar of the left shoulder whilst lifting a particularly heavy pile of The Daily Mail. Mr Alex, the manager, was helping me out by this stage and I dropped them in pain. I have sympathy for The Wall. He has to do that every weekend. I don't care how annoying he is, he does a good effort with those papers and, to be brutally honest, he probably deserved to have a little snigger as he hobbled out the door, leaving me to break my back over mountanous papers..
I'm going to have to go, I'm desperately tired. Please, let me go to sleep today! Please..
Until later my friends x
Friday 15 October 2010
Drunks
Drunks. There are loads of different types, some are good and some, just aren't. In the job I'm in at the moment, we get all sorts, but I hadn't come up against the most fearsome drunk of all. I make him sound like the final boss in a particularly difficult video game but, none the less, the abusive drunk is certainly the worst.
Sometimes, you get giggly drunks. These are fine, if not a tad wierd, when you say anything and they instantly start laughing. You get a sort of good feeling inside, the one you get when you make someone laugh but it is quickly evaporated as it strikes you that they are wasted and you're the idiot in the equation.
Sometimes you get flirty drunks. The girls who come in and call you "cute" and "hot" and all the other things that drunk girls think they're funny with. I have to admit this embarrasses me a bit as most of the time, I haven't got a clue who these girls are. The only comfort I can take, is that they're certainly aiming the compliments at me, seeing as no young, good-looking feminine types tend to go for fitting Asian men..
Sometimes you get the genuinely funny drunks. The comedians, the jokers, the clowns. The ones who say jokes and pull of stunts for the sole case of getting laughs from everyone in the vicinity, and the ones that are good at it, have the ability to turn a bad night into a good one. One springs to mind where someone realised there were cameras in the building and proceeded to give every one of them the 'V' sign. Now, not so funny at the time, but when I was in the same room as The Goddess of All Evil at 6.10 in the morning, and she's watching CCTV and sees that? Funniest thing alive. I guarantee it.
However, there is one other type of drunk. The type I got tonight. The ultra aggressive and angry drunk. I mean completely ape. Not 'Beddoe' angry, but I mean, PROPER angry. I encountered one of these this evening. He came up to the "night box", typed in speech marks because there is no such thing at our establishment, so I showed him round. I could hear him shouting expletives as he walked in through the main door and instantly started shouting something. I instantly stepped back but he kept on coming. "Give me 20 f****** Mayfairs, or your head is gonna get f****** kicked in, get it?!" My opening thought was, "Why are the Police never here when you need them?" but I suddenly thought I'd better stop daydreaming in fear of ending up decapitated. I gave him 20 Mayfairs and he literally chucked a £5 note and a 50p coin at my face.The coin hurt, as it hit me on the forehead. But there's more.
You see, being a petrol garage, things are ultimately a little more expensive. 20 Mayfair, usually around the £5.50 mark in most places, cost £5.77 here. Therefore, rather reluctantly, I had to ask the guy, in my calmest voice possible that he hadn't paid enough. "What the f*** did you say?? You being a cheeky c***?!" He then chucked another 50p at my nose, saying, "Keep the change you f****** p****, looks like you need it!"
I didn't have time to have a shave before I left for work... Doesn't make me a tramp, sir! (My thoughts, not my words. If they were my words, I would be typing this from beyond the grave!)
Obviously, at this point, my co-worker, the Capable One, was on her break so I had no back up when I needed it most. It was extraordinary. I had never enocountered such a rude person in my life! I was pleased to quickly get it out of my head and put it down to experience and get on with the work in hand.
The Goddess of All Evil was once again the manager in the morning, and once again, we were both in the firing line for some needless criticism and criticism that clearly wasn't deserved. I mean, how are you supposed to stop someone driving off without paying? What do you want us to do exactly? Grab our Hi-Vi's and run after them? Ridiculous woman and a poor excuse for a manager. And to add good news on to good news, The Wall has apparently dislocated his knee. If he turns up tomorrow, which I'm hoping he doesn't, then he won't be able to do anything except sit behind a till, leaving me to do all the back-breaking work. Great. He might be useless, but at least he takes the work from my hands and makes a crap job of it himself.
So generally, just rubbish. 3 nights to go before I get a bit of freedom, but even then I'm struggling for things to do. My life is generally going to be empty until next Summer. Great. Just great.
I need some JD.
Ciao x
P.S. Just a word of warning to anyone with a blog. Yes, you. I'd recommend not putting your inner most feelings about other people for the world to see. It'll end up coming back to haunt you. Trust me!
Sometimes, you get giggly drunks. These are fine, if not a tad wierd, when you say anything and they instantly start laughing. You get a sort of good feeling inside, the one you get when you make someone laugh but it is quickly evaporated as it strikes you that they are wasted and you're the idiot in the equation.
Sometimes you get flirty drunks. The girls who come in and call you "cute" and "hot" and all the other things that drunk girls think they're funny with. I have to admit this embarrasses me a bit as most of the time, I haven't got a clue who these girls are. The only comfort I can take, is that they're certainly aiming the compliments at me, seeing as no young, good-looking feminine types tend to go for fitting Asian men..
Sometimes you get the genuinely funny drunks. The comedians, the jokers, the clowns. The ones who say jokes and pull of stunts for the sole case of getting laughs from everyone in the vicinity, and the ones that are good at it, have the ability to turn a bad night into a good one. One springs to mind where someone realised there were cameras in the building and proceeded to give every one of them the 'V' sign. Now, not so funny at the time, but when I was in the same room as The Goddess of All Evil at 6.10 in the morning, and she's watching CCTV and sees that? Funniest thing alive. I guarantee it.
However, there is one other type of drunk. The type I got tonight. The ultra aggressive and angry drunk. I mean completely ape. Not 'Beddoe' angry, but I mean, PROPER angry. I encountered one of these this evening. He came up to the "night box", typed in speech marks because there is no such thing at our establishment, so I showed him round. I could hear him shouting expletives as he walked in through the main door and instantly started shouting something. I instantly stepped back but he kept on coming. "Give me 20 f****** Mayfairs, or your head is gonna get f****** kicked in, get it?!" My opening thought was, "Why are the Police never here when you need them?" but I suddenly thought I'd better stop daydreaming in fear of ending up decapitated. I gave him 20 Mayfairs and he literally chucked a £5 note and a 50p coin at my face.The coin hurt, as it hit me on the forehead. But there's more.
You see, being a petrol garage, things are ultimately a little more expensive. 20 Mayfair, usually around the £5.50 mark in most places, cost £5.77 here. Therefore, rather reluctantly, I had to ask the guy, in my calmest voice possible that he hadn't paid enough. "What the f*** did you say?? You being a cheeky c***?!" He then chucked another 50p at my nose, saying, "Keep the change you f****** p****, looks like you need it!"
I didn't have time to have a shave before I left for work... Doesn't make me a tramp, sir! (My thoughts, not my words. If they were my words, I would be typing this from beyond the grave!)
Obviously, at this point, my co-worker, the Capable One, was on her break so I had no back up when I needed it most. It was extraordinary. I had never enocountered such a rude person in my life! I was pleased to quickly get it out of my head and put it down to experience and get on with the work in hand.
The Goddess of All Evil was once again the manager in the morning, and once again, we were both in the firing line for some needless criticism and criticism that clearly wasn't deserved. I mean, how are you supposed to stop someone driving off without paying? What do you want us to do exactly? Grab our Hi-Vi's and run after them? Ridiculous woman and a poor excuse for a manager. And to add good news on to good news, The Wall has apparently dislocated his knee. If he turns up tomorrow, which I'm hoping he doesn't, then he won't be able to do anything except sit behind a till, leaving me to do all the back-breaking work. Great. He might be useless, but at least he takes the work from my hands and makes a crap job of it himself.
So generally, just rubbish. 3 nights to go before I get a bit of freedom, but even then I'm struggling for things to do. My life is generally going to be empty until next Summer. Great. Just great.
I need some JD.
Ciao x
P.S. Just a word of warning to anyone with a blog. Yes, you. I'd recommend not putting your inner most feelings about other people for the world to see. It'll end up coming back to haunt you. Trust me!
Thursday 14 October 2010
Spreading Like Wildfire
Wooah, tonight has been interesting! Sort of.
The beginning of my week and I turned up to a rapturous applause. I thought it was for me anyway, but I found out that Moo was just clapping at a joke told by Tic-Tak. Still, it was a positive for what I thought was going to be a long night, despite being with The Capable One instead of The Wall. Why have I suddenly come up with nicknames for everyone..?
The shift started off reasonably enough. Fairly busy, but nothing out of the ordinary. A few people I knew, it's good to chat when you're at work. Things quietened down in BP, just around the change of days, where things in the rest of Bedford seemingly were just about to heat up.. And yes, I do mean literally. At around 12.30am, we had a gentleman who came and filled up with a petrol can. Nothing strange about that, we get many filling up in cans, but 5 minutes later, we both realised he hadn't paid. He had just walked off into the distance with a can full of Ultimate Unleaded. Damn. Not good.
It became even more "not good" when the Police came in an hour later and asked us if we knew anyone who had bought a can of fuel. Well yes, and no. He had certainly got the fuel but he didn't buy it! It turned out that this "gentleman" had taken his can of fuel, and used it to set alight over 30 cars in and around Bedford. 30! I cannot imagine my car being set on fire, I would actually screw.
It was burning with Ultimate Unleaded aswell. Famed for it's ability to clean car engines while being used. A plus then for the victims who's cars have been scorched. At least it's cleaning your engine! No, it's not funny. And, as if things couldn't get any worse, we found out that The Goddess of All Evil was the manager in the morning.. A bollocking most definitely?
Well ... no actually. Not a word. Literally. She walked in, ignored our polite attempts at a greeting and walked straight into the office and locked the door. I saw no more of her before I left, luckily. She might even be dead by now, but I can only wish.
And one more thing, change of subject. Talking of 'Spreading like Wildfire', why the hell has everyone now got a blog? Detailing their every moment of life into an easy bitesize internet book, it was my idea! Now everyone has gone and stolen it.. Still, at least I can be nosey now..
And Beddoe, if your to be taken more seriously as a writer, I suggest you stop using ridiculous little emoticons after every word, it's just stupid. :P .... oh damn!
Cya x
The beginning of my week and I turned up to a rapturous applause. I thought it was for me anyway, but I found out that Moo was just clapping at a joke told by Tic-Tak. Still, it was a positive for what I thought was going to be a long night, despite being with The Capable One instead of The Wall. Why have I suddenly come up with nicknames for everyone..?
The shift started off reasonably enough. Fairly busy, but nothing out of the ordinary. A few people I knew, it's good to chat when you're at work. Things quietened down in BP, just around the change of days, where things in the rest of Bedford seemingly were just about to heat up.. And yes, I do mean literally. At around 12.30am, we had a gentleman who came and filled up with a petrol can. Nothing strange about that, we get many filling up in cans, but 5 minutes later, we both realised he hadn't paid. He had just walked off into the distance with a can full of Ultimate Unleaded. Damn. Not good.
It became even more "not good" when the Police came in an hour later and asked us if we knew anyone who had bought a can of fuel. Well yes, and no. He had certainly got the fuel but he didn't buy it! It turned out that this "gentleman" had taken his can of fuel, and used it to set alight over 30 cars in and around Bedford. 30! I cannot imagine my car being set on fire, I would actually screw.
It was burning with Ultimate Unleaded aswell. Famed for it's ability to clean car engines while being used. A plus then for the victims who's cars have been scorched. At least it's cleaning your engine! No, it's not funny. And, as if things couldn't get any worse, we found out that The Goddess of All Evil was the manager in the morning.. A bollocking most definitely?
Well ... no actually. Not a word. Literally. She walked in, ignored our polite attempts at a greeting and walked straight into the office and locked the door. I saw no more of her before I left, luckily. She might even be dead by now, but I can only wish.
And one more thing, change of subject. Talking of 'Spreading like Wildfire', why the hell has everyone now got a blog? Detailing their every moment of life into an easy bitesize internet book, it was my idea! Now everyone has gone and stolen it.. Still, at least I can be nosey now..
And Beddoe, if your to be taken more seriously as a writer, I suggest you stop using ridiculous little emoticons after every word, it's just stupid. :P .... oh damn!
Cya x
Wednesday 13 October 2010
Living In Albert Square
I'm a little bit lost at the moment. Literally took me a couple of minutes to work out what time of day it was before realising I fell asleep at roughly 2pm yesterday and it's now 4.30am, today.. Oh man, I have to work tonight and ideally I should be going to sleep around now, not waking up! I've made a complete U-Turn on what I promised myself I wouldn't do.
No reference to Nick Clegg intended. But he's a lying bastard.
Sorry, a bit of a political rant coming up. I am off to university next year, and if this unlimited cap on fees comes into force then the party I voted for, who promised to fight against unlimited fees and pledged to scrap fees altogether have made a complete U-Turn and have become a party of liars. All of them. I have never been more angry about a political decision in my life.
Still, back to today and yesterday and it was certainly a strange one. Young Beddoe seems to be getting his act together, which I would like to point out doesn't affect me at all. But I sense a bit of an Eastenders-esque episode coming up soon. For, on my part, I will try and keep out of as much as I possibly can. I know I will end up getting myself involved though, because sometimes I can't keep my mittens out!
5am.. I sort of need to force myself to go to sleep at roughly 2pm, if I am to stand a chance of being adequately awake for the start of my long week. I need a lot of sleep to be "adequately awake", so to wake up now is nothing short of a disaster!
Cya x
No reference to Nick Clegg intended. But he's a lying bastard.
Sorry, a bit of a political rant coming up. I am off to university next year, and if this unlimited cap on fees comes into force then the party I voted for, who promised to fight against unlimited fees and pledged to scrap fees altogether have made a complete U-Turn and have become a party of liars. All of them. I have never been more angry about a political decision in my life.
Still, back to today and yesterday and it was certainly a strange one. Young Beddoe seems to be getting his act together, which I would like to point out doesn't affect me at all. But I sense a bit of an Eastenders-esque episode coming up soon. For, on my part, I will try and keep out of as much as I possibly can. I know I will end up getting myself involved though, because sometimes I can't keep my mittens out!
5am.. I sort of need to force myself to go to sleep at roughly 2pm, if I am to stand a chance of being adequately awake for the start of my long week. I need a lot of sleep to be "adequately awake", so to wake up now is nothing short of a disaster!
Cya x
Tuesday 12 October 2010
To You, An Apology
This post, despite being available for the public to see, is to someone in particular. But, as everyone knows, I'm such a coward, I can't do it face-to-face.
This blog, I feel, is my only opportunity to be open to the people who read it, the one opportunity I can say what is on my mind. However, despite being open about as much as I can, I have still fought with the notion of including the concept of relationships in here. I have made a couple of brief references to it, but this morning, (How is it 7am already?!), I'll be very honest.
I haven't had many girlfriends. 3 or 4.. I definitely wouldn't consider my last relationship a mistake. It was a huge learning curve for me. I wouldn't say I was hugely experienced in the relationship side of things and I could probably say the same about her. I had battled with my conscience about asking her out for weeks before I actually did, and when I did, I was the happiest guy on Earth. Truthfully.
I was horribly mistaken on the concept of relationships. My friends who had got girlfriends in the past, seemed to vanish from the face of the Earth and seemed to spend every moment of their time awake with their new loved ones. I thought, "What if she wants to be with me 24/7?" I have many friends, many hobbies to enjoy, many people to make happy, what if all that disappears? As you all know by now, I don't communicate with people very well face-to-face, I worry what their reply will be and I fear I will make a fool of myself. I am too scared.
A few weeks in, I started to panic. I felt like I was neglecting the relationship because I wasn't spending enough time with her. If I wasn't spending enough time with her now, then how is this going to last? What I failed to consider though was, How long is "enough time"?
I broke up with her. In the most cowardly way I could think of. Obviously, there was no way I was going to get through doing it face-to-face. Bad move. My last in a sequence of bad moves ever since I made the one good move. For weeks after, I felt really bad. Very, very bad, but of course I couldn't speak to anyone about it. My fear of relationships as a whole entity, I feel, had become permanent.
And of course, to make things more worse in my own head, there was the issue with my sexuality. I was struggling in whether I should tell her or not, whether she would mind or take it badly. I would like to make it plain that, despite her thoughts, she is not the reason I am bisexual. Anything but. One person cannot change someone's sexuality. You are not a horrible person, 100%.
She knows now. I told her a month or so ago, not scared of the reaction I would receive back. I think she was on the recovering cycle of a busy night, so her reaction may not have been as bad as I might have been expecting. I don't think it's right to disclose what she thinks about anything in here. Read her blog if you want to know that. That's what I did!
And, honestly BC, that is the reason I'm typing this. I got the impression from your blog that I left, without word and sight, with a lot of questions unanswered. I can only apologise for that. I know how you felt for the weeks beyond and now you're moving on.
I admit, there have been times where I think I still like you, then dismiss the thoughts, thinking you were over it, and we couldn't possibly go back. Before going further, I'll make it plain that, I too, have moved on. And against your thoughts that I fancied/was going out with another guy, no. I haven't yet had a boyfriend, because I think the rejection in society is still too great to venture into such unknown paths. The story behind that is too great to get in to.
And as for those 5 silent months, they were silly times. I'm sure you recognise that as much as I do. I'm very glad we're over that, and I sincerely hope, that despite my large ups and downs, that we can be friends. Just friends. I hope you can appreciate that sometimes I can be a moron, but sometimes I can be sincere. I can be helpful and kind and as for that aftershave, I'll have to buy some more of that!
I hope you can take this, rather poor effort of an apology, as a whole-hearted yet cowardly attempt to explain my feelings. I don't have the guts usually to do anything as brave, but after reading your blog, I felt you deserved an explanation. And sorry, if you have already gotten over it and I've just waffled for 45 minutes!
x
This blog, I feel, is my only opportunity to be open to the people who read it, the one opportunity I can say what is on my mind. However, despite being open about as much as I can, I have still fought with the notion of including the concept of relationships in here. I have made a couple of brief references to it, but this morning, (How is it 7am already?!), I'll be very honest.
I haven't had many girlfriends. 3 or 4.. I definitely wouldn't consider my last relationship a mistake. It was a huge learning curve for me. I wouldn't say I was hugely experienced in the relationship side of things and I could probably say the same about her. I had battled with my conscience about asking her out for weeks before I actually did, and when I did, I was the happiest guy on Earth. Truthfully.
I was horribly mistaken on the concept of relationships. My friends who had got girlfriends in the past, seemed to vanish from the face of the Earth and seemed to spend every moment of their time awake with their new loved ones. I thought, "What if she wants to be with me 24/7?" I have many friends, many hobbies to enjoy, many people to make happy, what if all that disappears? As you all know by now, I don't communicate with people very well face-to-face, I worry what their reply will be and I fear I will make a fool of myself. I am too scared.
A few weeks in, I started to panic. I felt like I was neglecting the relationship because I wasn't spending enough time with her. If I wasn't spending enough time with her now, then how is this going to last? What I failed to consider though was, How long is "enough time"?
I broke up with her. In the most cowardly way I could think of. Obviously, there was no way I was going to get through doing it face-to-face. Bad move. My last in a sequence of bad moves ever since I made the one good move. For weeks after, I felt really bad. Very, very bad, but of course I couldn't speak to anyone about it. My fear of relationships as a whole entity, I feel, had become permanent.
And of course, to make things more worse in my own head, there was the issue with my sexuality. I was struggling in whether I should tell her or not, whether she would mind or take it badly. I would like to make it plain that, despite her thoughts, she is not the reason I am bisexual. Anything but. One person cannot change someone's sexuality. You are not a horrible person, 100%.
She knows now. I told her a month or so ago, not scared of the reaction I would receive back. I think she was on the recovering cycle of a busy night, so her reaction may not have been as bad as I might have been expecting. I don't think it's right to disclose what she thinks about anything in here. Read her blog if you want to know that. That's what I did!
And, honestly BC, that is the reason I'm typing this. I got the impression from your blog that I left, without word and sight, with a lot of questions unanswered. I can only apologise for that. I know how you felt for the weeks beyond and now you're moving on.
I admit, there have been times where I think I still like you, then dismiss the thoughts, thinking you were over it, and we couldn't possibly go back. Before going further, I'll make it plain that, I too, have moved on. And against your thoughts that I fancied/was going out with another guy, no. I haven't yet had a boyfriend, because I think the rejection in society is still too great to venture into such unknown paths. The story behind that is too great to get in to.
And as for those 5 silent months, they were silly times. I'm sure you recognise that as much as I do. I'm very glad we're over that, and I sincerely hope, that despite my large ups and downs, that we can be friends. Just friends. I hope you can appreciate that sometimes I can be a moron, but sometimes I can be sincere. I can be helpful and kind and as for that aftershave, I'll have to buy some more of that!
I hope you can take this, rather poor effort of an apology, as a whole-hearted yet cowardly attempt to explain my feelings. I don't have the guts usually to do anything as brave, but after reading your blog, I felt you deserved an explanation. And sorry, if you have already gotten over it and I've just waffled for 45 minutes!
x
This Ungodly Hour
To be honest, I was struggling to think of a good subject for tonight's blog, but looking at the lives of others, (a.k.a Facebook Stalking), I have found out a few interesting things.
It's almost 5am. Most people are asleep. As we've already established, I am not, and for once I'm in a rather content mood for the time of night. This might be because of a lot of things:
1) There seems to be a lot of people awake for this time of day. 18 apparently, which means I am not the only hedgehog in the UK. Or in Bedford for that matter.
2) I'm listening to a lot of happy songs. I thought as the night gets ever darker and colder, the happier songs will be good for my mental health and also for your eyes, because you won't have to read a lot of drivvle, (made up word..), about my depression. I hope you understand it's good for me to get those things off my chest occasionally though.
And 3) I've just read something interesting. Very interesting. Incredibly interesting.
I'm just thinking about the week ahead. It is going to be a long one, but, again, I seem to be drawing positives out of the situation. Wednesday and Thursday, I'm working with a capable being who is back from her holidays. She may be a bit grumpy, but I'll have good fun in updating her with the Manager's departure and the ridiculous happenings with The Wall. And the weekend, another football match vs some team called Mittens Rangers...
I joke.
Ok, so maybe my week isn't that special, but I'm trying hard hear not to be negative.
It's almost 5am. Most people are asleep. As we've already established, I am not, and for once I'm in a rather content mood for the time of night. This might be because of a lot of things:
1) There seems to be a lot of people awake for this time of day. 18 apparently, which means I am not the only hedgehog in the UK. Or in Bedford for that matter.
2) I'm listening to a lot of happy songs. I thought as the night gets ever darker and colder, the happier songs will be good for my mental health and also for your eyes, because you won't have to read a lot of drivvle, (made up word..), about my depression. I hope you understand it's good for me to get those things off my chest occasionally though.
And 3) I've just read something interesting. Very interesting. Incredibly interesting.
I'm just thinking about the week ahead. It is going to be a long one, but, again, I seem to be drawing positives out of the situation. Wednesday and Thursday, I'm working with a capable being who is back from her holidays. She may be a bit grumpy, but I'll have good fun in updating her with the Manager's departure and the ridiculous happenings with The Wall. And the weekend, another football match vs some team called Mittens Rangers...
I joke.
Ok, so maybe my week isn't that special, but I'm trying hard hear not to be negative.
Monday 11 October 2010
Ingenious Bastard? Nope, Just A Bastard!
I'll get to that. You all already know who I am talking about.
Sunday nights aren't famed for their business and robustness or speed, but tonight was completely the opposite. Well, not the complete opposite, but it went at a fair pace which is good news for me, and my brain. Football earlier, went good and bad. We won, 5-2, thanks to a hat-trick of penalties and an awful referee which ended up tipping the balance in our favour. A good bit of revenge following last week! However, despite the win, I came away with a hatful of injuries. My right index finger feels like it has been trodden on by a rampaging rhino, my left calf was studded by a pair of blades, or maybe they were machettes on the bottom of someone's boots?
The most concerning injury of all though was my left bicep. Now, I'm no Mr.Muscle, so it's not hugely obvious, but my left bicep feels like it's been ravaged by a hugry Bull Terrior. I think it happened after I made a pretty smart save, from a header at point blank range, when the score was 3-2, (so an important one!) and didn't really feel the pain until after the match, and the adrenaline had eased off a bit. A searing pain in my left arm, which left me fairly hampered for the night at work that was to come.
And what a frustrating one it was. The Wall, after maybe starting to convince me that he was getting slightly better, has gone back to his old self of being the complete moron. Slow, frustrating, annoying and excuse-making, he has been on top form this week. The management aren't helping either. The Goddess of All Evil has only gone and filed another complaint against me to the Acting Store Manager, (who consequently doesn't give a damn), and I see her on Thursday. I might just stand up for myself... She has something against me I swear... I would rather be managed by Sir Alan Sugar...
And OK, it's Monday morning, so no work for a couple of days, but I go back on Wednesday. There's no point working towards a human being sleeping pattern because I'll just have to change back as quickly as you can say 'Ryan Giggs on Speed'. A couple of long nights await then, before the monotony and devesatating agony of 5 straight days. Think of the good things Mitten... Think of the good things..
Saying that, I spent most of tonight's shift daydreaming about what I would spend £113million on. That EuroMillions ticket has still been unclaimed, so I might be lucky enough to find it in a bin somewhere. Or maybe not..
Ohhh, good news ladies and gents. The 200th post! Applause welcomed.
Ciao x
Sunday nights aren't famed for their business and robustness or speed, but tonight was completely the opposite. Well, not the complete opposite, but it went at a fair pace which is good news for me, and my brain. Football earlier, went good and bad. We won, 5-2, thanks to a hat-trick of penalties and an awful referee which ended up tipping the balance in our favour. A good bit of revenge following last week! However, despite the win, I came away with a hatful of injuries. My right index finger feels like it has been trodden on by a rampaging rhino, my left calf was studded by a pair of blades, or maybe they were machettes on the bottom of someone's boots?
The most concerning injury of all though was my left bicep. Now, I'm no Mr.Muscle, so it's not hugely obvious, but my left bicep feels like it's been ravaged by a hugry Bull Terrior. I think it happened after I made a pretty smart save, from a header at point blank range, when the score was 3-2, (so an important one!) and didn't really feel the pain until after the match, and the adrenaline had eased off a bit. A searing pain in my left arm, which left me fairly hampered for the night at work that was to come.
And what a frustrating one it was. The Wall, after maybe starting to convince me that he was getting slightly better, has gone back to his old self of being the complete moron. Slow, frustrating, annoying and excuse-making, he has been on top form this week. The management aren't helping either. The Goddess of All Evil has only gone and filed another complaint against me to the Acting Store Manager, (who consequently doesn't give a damn), and I see her on Thursday. I might just stand up for myself... She has something against me I swear... I would rather be managed by Sir Alan Sugar...
And OK, it's Monday morning, so no work for a couple of days, but I go back on Wednesday. There's no point working towards a human being sleeping pattern because I'll just have to change back as quickly as you can say 'Ryan Giggs on Speed'. A couple of long nights await then, before the monotony and devesatating agony of 5 straight days. Think of the good things Mitten... Think of the good things..
Saying that, I spent most of tonight's shift daydreaming about what I would spend £113million on. That EuroMillions ticket has still been unclaimed, so I might be lucky enough to find it in a bin somewhere. Or maybe not..
Ohhh, good news ladies and gents. The 200th post! Applause welcomed.
Ciao x
Sunday 10 October 2010
The Demands of Daytime Life
I feel so tired. It's not as if I've been awake long either. Yesterday, I went to sleep at 10am, awoke at 9pm for another "fun-filled" night at work, (I'll get to that), so I can be as awake as possible for our tough 2nd round league cup encounter against Renhold this morning. A deja vu of last week, if you remember.
Nope, I'm not feeling it this morning at all. I've had a tough night. I knew it was going to be slightly easier than the frivoloties of last night. Tonight, there would be 3 of us! 3! I feel honoured! I'd have settled for 2 after last night, but the 2 they had given me was His Royal Dopeness The Wall and Mr.Grumpy. Mr.Grumpy is one of the "new" people, despite his appearance as a BP employee for nearly 3 months now. Mr.Grumpy speaks so quietly and grumpily that you have no option to just say "yeah" and hope the question wasn't, "Can I go now?" Still, he is better than The Wall, who's excuse making tonight was top-notch. He claimed he had no time to complete his duties. I was about to tell him that the reasoning behind it was his pace, which is about as fast as a disabled tortoise with a damaged foot. Still, it could have been worse, the Evil One, (manageress), was in a positively delightful mood despite her appearance at the garage sparking a Police matter in the office. I kept well away.
Ahh, I really don't want to play this morning. Not even the usual 3 cans of Red Bull and a few Pro Plus can wake me up sufficiently for the demands of the morning. As with last week, I would rather pull the covers up over my eyes and fall out of love with the waking world. If I say I don't want to play, Father Mitten will be fuming as will the team-mates. The one bad thing about having no competition as a goalkeeper is that you're completely relied upon to turn up week-in, week-out, without fail. Sigh...
21st November, they'll have to find someone else though, because I'm off to enjoy the company of The Angry One up in Manchester for the weekend. I need to use a few days off, so what better way than a trek up the M6 to enjoy the druggy delights of Manc Land for the weekend. I promise, no drugs will be consumed. Just everyone there seems to offer you "Charlie". I refer you to an earlier post, named 'Preconceptions'. Good promotion there.
Current time, 08:05. Another 5 hours realistically until I can go to sleep. Oh, how I wish those 5 hours would die.
Bye x
Nope, I'm not feeling it this morning at all. I've had a tough night. I knew it was going to be slightly easier than the frivoloties of last night. Tonight, there would be 3 of us! 3! I feel honoured! I'd have settled for 2 after last night, but the 2 they had given me was His Royal Dopeness The Wall and Mr.Grumpy. Mr.Grumpy is one of the "new" people, despite his appearance as a BP employee for nearly 3 months now. Mr.Grumpy speaks so quietly and grumpily that you have no option to just say "yeah" and hope the question wasn't, "Can I go now?" Still, he is better than The Wall, who's excuse making tonight was top-notch. He claimed he had no time to complete his duties. I was about to tell him that the reasoning behind it was his pace, which is about as fast as a disabled tortoise with a damaged foot. Still, it could have been worse, the Evil One, (manageress), was in a positively delightful mood despite her appearance at the garage sparking a Police matter in the office. I kept well away.
Ahh, I really don't want to play this morning. Not even the usual 3 cans of Red Bull and a few Pro Plus can wake me up sufficiently for the demands of the morning. As with last week, I would rather pull the covers up over my eyes and fall out of love with the waking world. If I say I don't want to play, Father Mitten will be fuming as will the team-mates. The one bad thing about having no competition as a goalkeeper is that you're completely relied upon to turn up week-in, week-out, without fail. Sigh...
21st November, they'll have to find someone else though, because I'm off to enjoy the company of The Angry One up in Manchester for the weekend. I need to use a few days off, so what better way than a trek up the M6 to enjoy the druggy delights of Manc Land for the weekend. I promise, no drugs will be consumed. Just everyone there seems to offer you "Charlie". I refer you to an earlier post, named 'Preconceptions'. Good promotion there.
Current time, 08:05. Another 5 hours realistically until I can go to sleep. Oh, how I wish those 5 hours would die.
Bye x
Saturday 9 October 2010
One Man Show
Tonight, Mr.Wall was on holiday, (yes!), which meant I turned up for work expecting to work with one of the less annoying people who work nights. I would like to add at this point, that I still find them annoying, but they're in a different universe compared to The Wall.
However, 9:57pm came, and not a person in sight. Just me. It turns out, the person who was supposed to be working was in Manchester, unaware that he had been given the extra hours, so the firm asked for someone to stand up and be counted in it's time of need. That would be... no one then..? Yep, not one person was willing to put their bodies on the line. 2 of them were going out on the piss and the other one had to be back at 6am in the morning, so refused to work 24 hours straight. Fair enough I suppose. Given the choice of working the night or going out on the lash, I'd know which one I'd go for..
So, it was left for me to man the building for what was bound to be 8 hours of pure and hellish boredom and frantic running. It turned out to be ridiculously busy and I took over £4,000 on my own. I didn't manage to complete everything, far from it actually, but I wasn't to blame. I was just happy to climb into my car at 6.20am and drive very quickly home. Get away from the place.
Tomorrow, there are 3 of us, hopefully.. One of them being The Wall, back from his holiday in ... Manchester... wait a second?
Laters x
P.S : Just a quick side note. Current time: 09:08 ... 19-21st November. I'll explain all in the next post, (If I remember...)
Cya x
However, 9:57pm came, and not a person in sight. Just me. It turns out, the person who was supposed to be working was in Manchester, unaware that he had been given the extra hours, so the firm asked for someone to stand up and be counted in it's time of need. That would be... no one then..? Yep, not one person was willing to put their bodies on the line. 2 of them were going out on the piss and the other one had to be back at 6am in the morning, so refused to work 24 hours straight. Fair enough I suppose. Given the choice of working the night or going out on the lash, I'd know which one I'd go for..
So, it was left for me to man the building for what was bound to be 8 hours of pure and hellish boredom and frantic running. It turned out to be ridiculously busy and I took over £4,000 on my own. I didn't manage to complete everything, far from it actually, but I wasn't to blame. I was just happy to climb into my car at 6.20am and drive very quickly home. Get away from the place.
Tomorrow, there are 3 of us, hopefully.. One of them being The Wall, back from his holiday in ... Manchester... wait a second?
Laters x
P.S : Just a quick side note. Current time: 09:08 ... 19-21st November. I'll explain all in the next post, (If I remember...)
Cya x
Thursday 7 October 2010
Death By Haircut
I've just been for yet another haircut. My hair does grow like a weed and more than occasionally, it needs to be cut in fear of being classed as a forest by the government. Which would make things tricky.. However, the hairdressers, (or barbers if you're cockney!), take it upon themselves to be majorly tricky. Why are they so strange?
This afternoon, I walked in to find there was no queue. Brilliant! But I still had to wait 20 minutes because every single hairdresser was sitting in the corner gorging on McDonalds. Lunch hour is lunch hour I suppose. When they finally decided they would get on with what they're paid to do, they asked me what I wanted. Errr... a haircut? I come here for someone to cut my hair and would like to leave the establishment with less hair than when I entered. I wish to say that every time, but it never comes out like that. It is hairdressing etiquette to say a random number, (the lower, the shorter), and I have to add "very short" to most sentences to make them get the message.
Even with the very clear indication however, that I want my hair short, they still end up not cutting it enough. At least 3 times I have to say "No, shorter". I despair. But a lot more despair is spent up to the moment. Because they are so rough with their instruments! This particular man, early 20's with every hair product on display in his own hair, took to the clippers like it was a gun and begun tearing chunks out of my head, as if he wanted to slaughter my scalp. I always think they will do what I call, "A Mr. Bean". That goes back to an episode of the popular slapstick comedy where Bean chops off the poor gentleman's whole head of hair with these clipper instruments.. This bit isn't so painful, but of course, it gets worse.
This man then grabs a very thick pair of scissors. Then proceeds to drown me in freezing cold water before commencing an even worse hacking of the scalp that had come before with the clippers. Over and over again, scraping the scissors against my ear and chopping at redundant hair that isn't needed any more. The tops of my ears now resemble a half-eaten steak after the amount of times they were struck by these oversize scissors. This, naturally, takes forever. The more hair you have, the more time you are using of the hairdresser's and the worse the pain.
But, the worst pain of all comes at the end. If you are a male, which I was the last time I checked, you do tend to grow a bit of facial hair. Because of this, the hairdresser tends to grab the sharpest knife of all and proceed to scrape the hair of the sides and back of your neck. Well.. it's supposed to be sharp, but this gentleman today might aswell have used a fork. It was disgraceful. Blunt as a spoon, it took him a whole 10 minutes to do a half-completed job before proceeding to the final part of the haircut.
The mirror. Why, oh WHY, do all hairdressers grab a mirror and show you the back of your own head? Why? I don't care what's happening back there. As long as you haven't shaved a penis into my head, then I really don't give a monkeys. No one, in history, has ever said anything than "yeah" to the questions put to you by the hairdresser, at this moment in time, thus wasting everyone's time. It's just ridiculous.
Then they ask you if you want any gel, wax, water or bull sperm in your hair, which is an obvious no judging by the look of your own head, Mr.Hairdresser, just get on with and get me out of this stupid gown you've placed over me.
The price? £9-00. And of course, I give him a tenner and tell him to keep the change. Because social etiquette indicates that we leave a tip. Instead of giving him a money tip however, I really should have given him just a tip:
"Don't ever cut my hair again, understood?"
Ciao x
This afternoon, I walked in to find there was no queue. Brilliant! But I still had to wait 20 minutes because every single hairdresser was sitting in the corner gorging on McDonalds. Lunch hour is lunch hour I suppose. When they finally decided they would get on with what they're paid to do, they asked me what I wanted. Errr... a haircut? I come here for someone to cut my hair and would like to leave the establishment with less hair than when I entered. I wish to say that every time, but it never comes out like that. It is hairdressing etiquette to say a random number, (the lower, the shorter), and I have to add "very short" to most sentences to make them get the message.
Even with the very clear indication however, that I want my hair short, they still end up not cutting it enough. At least 3 times I have to say "No, shorter". I despair. But a lot more despair is spent up to the moment. Because they are so rough with their instruments! This particular man, early 20's with every hair product on display in his own hair, took to the clippers like it was a gun and begun tearing chunks out of my head, as if he wanted to slaughter my scalp. I always think they will do what I call, "A Mr. Bean". That goes back to an episode of the popular slapstick comedy where Bean chops off the poor gentleman's whole head of hair with these clipper instruments.. This bit isn't so painful, but of course, it gets worse.
This man then grabs a very thick pair of scissors. Then proceeds to drown me in freezing cold water before commencing an even worse hacking of the scalp that had come before with the clippers. Over and over again, scraping the scissors against my ear and chopping at redundant hair that isn't needed any more. The tops of my ears now resemble a half-eaten steak after the amount of times they were struck by these oversize scissors. This, naturally, takes forever. The more hair you have, the more time you are using of the hairdresser's and the worse the pain.
But, the worst pain of all comes at the end. If you are a male, which I was the last time I checked, you do tend to grow a bit of facial hair. Because of this, the hairdresser tends to grab the sharpest knife of all and proceed to scrape the hair of the sides and back of your neck. Well.. it's supposed to be sharp, but this gentleman today might aswell have used a fork. It was disgraceful. Blunt as a spoon, it took him a whole 10 minutes to do a half-completed job before proceeding to the final part of the haircut.
The mirror. Why, oh WHY, do all hairdressers grab a mirror and show you the back of your own head? Why? I don't care what's happening back there. As long as you haven't shaved a penis into my head, then I really don't give a monkeys. No one, in history, has ever said anything than "yeah" to the questions put to you by the hairdresser, at this moment in time, thus wasting everyone's time. It's just ridiculous.
Then they ask you if you want any gel, wax, water or bull sperm in your hair, which is an obvious no judging by the look of your own head, Mr.Hairdresser, just get on with and get me out of this stupid gown you've placed over me.
The price? £9-00. And of course, I give him a tenner and tell him to keep the change. Because social etiquette indicates that we leave a tip. Instead of giving him a money tip however, I really should have given him just a tip:
"Don't ever cut my hair again, understood?"
Ciao x
Mr.Impatient
I won't lie. I want to be at university around now. I feel like I'm missing out on all the drunken fun, the heart-to-heart's, the independance and feeling like I'm actually working towards something other than the dullness of day-to-day life at the worst place of all, home.
My plan of making the most of my coveted 4 days off have become fruitless once more and I find myself wide awake at the most deathly of hours, trying to waste away the time by doing pointless things. Useless things. Things that mean nothing at all. There is nothing you can do at this time of the day. And boy, don't I just know it. I do feel completely useless here.
I don't know why but I feel like I'm not trusted by people any more. People have made new friends to confide in and who cares about lonely old Tom at home in his rubbish job with his rubbish hours. There have been too many cases lately, especially today, where people tell me there is something wrong, then refuse the help I offer. They brush it off, as if I'm not good enough for them, I'm too fragile myself to give to other people or simply they don't want to disturb me, thinking I've got troubles of my own to deal with. Much like how I think of others I suppose. Is this all just me being a hypocrite?
I do have troubles of my own, yes, but I am bothered about what my friends are doing. They may all have gone to university now but I wish, more than anything, that they don't forget what they've left behind. I increasingly feel like I have no one here now. No one to talk to, or enjoy things with. I feel incredibly lonely. So very lonely.
And that is why I long to be somewhere else. Somewhere else where family aren't probing your every move, much of which has happened today. Somewhere where people actually understand what you're going through, even slightly, people my own age and people who I can have fun with. Sitting at home, trying to ignore the searching questions of parents and people who think you are lying to avoid them. That isn't what I would constitute as 'fun'.
And the word 'fun' is something I have missed. The word 'fun' became redundant at the time where everyone went back to their proper homes. The homes they had been longing to get back to ever since they left. The homes that don't involve me. Selfish? Maybe. I know it's the truth. Not one of them wanted to stay here any longer, and I don't blame them. But I feel now, there is no one. I can speak over the phone, or on here, but nothing is like going out somewhere, or simply going to the pub or the cinema. Not just sitting here, with only the heat of the room to keep you company.
This coming year, apart from a few weeks, are going to be dreadful. I want the loneliness to disappear and I just want someone to walk through the door a few feet in front of me and just talk to me. Someone who understands what is happening in my head. Anyone.
I took my parents out to dinner earlier. Despite my secret thoughts about them, I still do love them and appreciate them as much as the next Son, and it is their anniversary today. 27 years... or 28.. However, I do wish they wouldn't probe so much. Just let me deal with my own excursions, problems and adventures. And, even if you are thinking, "Tell them then?", I have. Many times. But they do not listen. The main reason I don't tell them anything, because they don't listen properly. They offer help and don't help at all. At times where things inside my head have exploded I have sat down with them, tears strolling down my cheeks, and tell them to leave me alone. Just leave me to it. Then they start to creep back in to my life once more, until it all explodes again. It's a vicious cycle. And a cycle I wish to be rid of. It is part of the reason I'm going to university. Just a bit of independance. Even if sometimes I feel I can't look after myself. Even if there are days where I feel like the whole world hates me. Days like today.
And that, my friends, is the main problem. Maybe I have a touch of the Bipolar in me. Days where I can feel good and even talk to my parents about something. Like a couple of weeks ago. How can things change so quickly? Why do things change so quickly? Do they have to change so quickly? I can't help it. I don't like it. Right now, I want to be rid of it. But I don't have the bottle.
I do feel physically sick, just at the thought of jumping..
My plan of making the most of my coveted 4 days off have become fruitless once more and I find myself wide awake at the most deathly of hours, trying to waste away the time by doing pointless things. Useless things. Things that mean nothing at all. There is nothing you can do at this time of the day. And boy, don't I just know it. I do feel completely useless here.
I don't know why but I feel like I'm not trusted by people any more. People have made new friends to confide in and who cares about lonely old Tom at home in his rubbish job with his rubbish hours. There have been too many cases lately, especially today, where people tell me there is something wrong, then refuse the help I offer. They brush it off, as if I'm not good enough for them, I'm too fragile myself to give to other people or simply they don't want to disturb me, thinking I've got troubles of my own to deal with. Much like how I think of others I suppose. Is this all just me being a hypocrite?
I do have troubles of my own, yes, but I am bothered about what my friends are doing. They may all have gone to university now but I wish, more than anything, that they don't forget what they've left behind. I increasingly feel like I have no one here now. No one to talk to, or enjoy things with. I feel incredibly lonely. So very lonely.
And that is why I long to be somewhere else. Somewhere else where family aren't probing your every move, much of which has happened today. Somewhere where people actually understand what you're going through, even slightly, people my own age and people who I can have fun with. Sitting at home, trying to ignore the searching questions of parents and people who think you are lying to avoid them. That isn't what I would constitute as 'fun'.
And the word 'fun' is something I have missed. The word 'fun' became redundant at the time where everyone went back to their proper homes. The homes they had been longing to get back to ever since they left. The homes that don't involve me. Selfish? Maybe. I know it's the truth. Not one of them wanted to stay here any longer, and I don't blame them. But I feel now, there is no one. I can speak over the phone, or on here, but nothing is like going out somewhere, or simply going to the pub or the cinema. Not just sitting here, with only the heat of the room to keep you company.
This coming year, apart from a few weeks, are going to be dreadful. I want the loneliness to disappear and I just want someone to walk through the door a few feet in front of me and just talk to me. Someone who understands what is happening in my head. Anyone.
I took my parents out to dinner earlier. Despite my secret thoughts about them, I still do love them and appreciate them as much as the next Son, and it is their anniversary today. 27 years... or 28.. However, I do wish they wouldn't probe so much. Just let me deal with my own excursions, problems and adventures. And, even if you are thinking, "Tell them then?", I have. Many times. But they do not listen. The main reason I don't tell them anything, because they don't listen properly. They offer help and don't help at all. At times where things inside my head have exploded I have sat down with them, tears strolling down my cheeks, and tell them to leave me alone. Just leave me to it. Then they start to creep back in to my life once more, until it all explodes again. It's a vicious cycle. And a cycle I wish to be rid of. It is part of the reason I'm going to university. Just a bit of independance. Even if sometimes I feel I can't look after myself. Even if there are days where I feel like the whole world hates me. Days like today.
And that, my friends, is the main problem. Maybe I have a touch of the Bipolar in me. Days where I can feel good and even talk to my parents about something. Like a couple of weeks ago. How can things change so quickly? Why do things change so quickly? Do they have to change so quickly? I can't help it. I don't like it. Right now, I want to be rid of it. But I don't have the bottle.
I do feel physically sick, just at the thought of jumping..
Tuesday 5 October 2010
All On My Own
I feel an unprecedented level of boredom this afternoon and with no prospect of anything happening today, tomorrow, or any other day until I end up going back to what is now known as, 'Hell', on Friday, it didn't take me long to work out what the problem is. I've no one around to do anything with.
It's all well and good doing things on your own, but as is usually the case with most things, you can only entertain yourself for a certain amount of time, [Enter sexual innuendo here]! But, seriously, everyone is at university. Everyone. 2 people I know who aren't and they're both always busy so what am I supposed to do? The answer? Nothing.
Saying that, I may well be driving up to Sunderland tomorrow for their Open Day. All I know is that they offer my course, nothing in huge knowledge about the university but I am just going up there for something to do. It would be useful to have a look around, and if I like it, whoop-de-doo, it's an option.
Nothing else to say I'm afraid. My boredom is perpetual.
Bye x
It's all well and good doing things on your own, but as is usually the case with most things, you can only entertain yourself for a certain amount of time, [Enter sexual innuendo here]! But, seriously, everyone is at university. Everyone. 2 people I know who aren't and they're both always busy so what am I supposed to do? The answer? Nothing.
Saying that, I may well be driving up to Sunderland tomorrow for their Open Day. All I know is that they offer my course, nothing in huge knowledge about the university but I am just going up there for something to do. It would be useful to have a look around, and if I like it, whoop-de-doo, it's an option.
Nothing else to say I'm afraid. My boredom is perpetual.
Bye x
Sunday 3 October 2010
Pole-Axed
Have you ever felt that feeling where every time you swallow, you feel even more tired? That slight pain you get in your throat every time you have a drink or eat some toast? It's there this morning and I feel terrible. The last couple of days I've had a major headache but, for the first time in a long time, refused to be plagued by it and got up and went to work. Which, as is usually the case, has been long and itchingly terrible. The manageress I was on about had another go on me, in an almost, "Lets pick on Tom week" manner, and The Wall has gone back to his old habits of being a nuisance. Part of me is annoyed, but the other half is too tired to join it's twin in being disgruntled.
It's not as if I can go to sleep at the moment either. No chance. Football this morning and it is the classic grudge match, MAFC vs Renhold. On a par with Man Utd vs Man City, Arsenal vs Spurs or Rangers vs Celtic. Although technically, every game in this league is a local derby, this particular match has always had a certain element of spice in it as we have both followed each other up the leagues since we formed 3 years ago, always fighting for the title, that has gone to Renhold each time. Am I bothered though? This morning I'm certainly not, and to be honest, I look forward to the moment I can pull the covers over my tired eyes and say goodbye to the world for a few hours. Whatever the score.
However, the fear of making a mistake is still there. Rains that The Amazon would be proud of has scaled our land which makes my job all the more difficult and the embarrassment of making a mistake still looms large in my head even if my heart says I shouldn't be. I can't possibly imagine Rob Green's need for the ground to open up and swallow him this Summer, but it is nothing to the pain I would feel. Mr Green didn't have to work all night.. I can tell you what goes through my head. If it's 1-1, and my team-mates run around working their butts off, only for their keeper, standing in his goal not exerting himself at all, makes a silly mistake, imagine the others. All that work for nothing. I couldn't stand it.
Still, on the bright side, I only have to work 1 more, fairly innocuous shift, before I get the pleasure of my fortnightly four days off in which I can enjoy and do whatever I please with. I feel the need to go on an adventure somewhere, go for a large drive to some other place that isn't here and, honestly, just get a bit drunk. Although, obviously not at the same time as the driving... It feels like it's been ages since the days of complete nonsense. Walking home in the snow, freezing, or jumping over bushes to find yourself nearly impaled on a rusty old fence the other days, or simply ripping off 'To Let' signs. I miss those times.
Yes, I am truly fed up of BP times now. Doing the same thing day-in, day-out, (or night-in, night-out), and it's becoming mind-numbing. Many people comment saying how they find it impossible that a human being can work the hours I do, and I have to say, I completely agree with them. Although, most of them seem to think I don't sleep during the day, meaning I don't sleep at all.. Yeah, the intelligence we recieve isn't of Stephen Hawking proportions. At the times where I have thought this before, I have reminded myself of the 4 days off I get, or the money on the 15th of every month, but this time I have resorted to day-dreaming about university times. I can't help myself. The freedom, the chance of a future, the independance. I now can't find the reason I didn't go before. I regret it, but at least I can take some consolation from the fact I haven't left it too late.
Even The Wall went to university apparently. How he ended up working in the worst job in history baffles me, but then I think, of course, he's lying. Or he's an idiot. Or both. Definitely both.
Cya x
It's not as if I can go to sleep at the moment either. No chance. Football this morning and it is the classic grudge match, MAFC vs Renhold. On a par with Man Utd vs Man City, Arsenal vs Spurs or Rangers vs Celtic. Although technically, every game in this league is a local derby, this particular match has always had a certain element of spice in it as we have both followed each other up the leagues since we formed 3 years ago, always fighting for the title, that has gone to Renhold each time. Am I bothered though? This morning I'm certainly not, and to be honest, I look forward to the moment I can pull the covers over my tired eyes and say goodbye to the world for a few hours. Whatever the score.
However, the fear of making a mistake is still there. Rains that The Amazon would be proud of has scaled our land which makes my job all the more difficult and the embarrassment of making a mistake still looms large in my head even if my heart says I shouldn't be. I can't possibly imagine Rob Green's need for the ground to open up and swallow him this Summer, but it is nothing to the pain I would feel. Mr Green didn't have to work all night.. I can tell you what goes through my head. If it's 1-1, and my team-mates run around working their butts off, only for their keeper, standing in his goal not exerting himself at all, makes a silly mistake, imagine the others. All that work for nothing. I couldn't stand it.
Still, on the bright side, I only have to work 1 more, fairly innocuous shift, before I get the pleasure of my fortnightly four days off in which I can enjoy and do whatever I please with. I feel the need to go on an adventure somewhere, go for a large drive to some other place that isn't here and, honestly, just get a bit drunk. Although, obviously not at the same time as the driving... It feels like it's been ages since the days of complete nonsense. Walking home in the snow, freezing, or jumping over bushes to find yourself nearly impaled on a rusty old fence the other days, or simply ripping off 'To Let' signs. I miss those times.
Yes, I am truly fed up of BP times now. Doing the same thing day-in, day-out, (or night-in, night-out), and it's becoming mind-numbing. Many people comment saying how they find it impossible that a human being can work the hours I do, and I have to say, I completely agree with them. Although, most of them seem to think I don't sleep during the day, meaning I don't sleep at all.. Yeah, the intelligence we recieve isn't of Stephen Hawking proportions. At the times where I have thought this before, I have reminded myself of the 4 days off I get, or the money on the 15th of every month, but this time I have resorted to day-dreaming about university times. I can't help myself. The freedom, the chance of a future, the independance. I now can't find the reason I didn't go before. I regret it, but at least I can take some consolation from the fact I haven't left it too late.
Even The Wall went to university apparently. How he ended up working in the worst job in history baffles me, but then I think, of course, he's lying. Or he's an idiot. Or both. Definitely both.
Cya x
Friday 1 October 2010
Early Morning Fix of Power
I hate managers. I can't wait till the day I have no managers to answer to, or no one to answer to at all as all they seem to do is complain.
I was kept till 6:45 this morning by a manageress clearly just getting her early morning fix to get her through the morning, complaining about the most minor of things. Eventually, I had no choice but to shut her up and walking out. I don't care about any reprocussions, (or however you spell it!) because she can just go shoot herself with a rifle. She even tried to stop me driving off but I was never going to use the brake pedal. I didn't hit her, although I was tempted.
I need something different very soon, but it's not happening. Next September please?
Cya x
I was kept till 6:45 this morning by a manageress clearly just getting her early morning fix to get her through the morning, complaining about the most minor of things. Eventually, I had no choice but to shut her up and walking out. I don't care about any reprocussions, (or however you spell it!) because she can just go shoot herself with a rifle. She even tried to stop me driving off but I was never going to use the brake pedal. I didn't hit her, although I was tempted.
I need something different very soon, but it's not happening. Next September please?
Cya x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)