This year. I seem to remember this time last year, I was sad. Hoping beyond anything that the year 2010, the start of a new decade, would produce magnificence. If not magnificence, then something. Anything that would be worthwhile. Anything worth boasting about or bragging about, anything that would make someone proud. Something life-changing.
It didn't come. It didn't happen. Instead, I learnt the one lesson that should of been learnt years ago. You don't get things handed to you on a silver platter. Even if part of me still has the same attitude, I know, deep down, that I need to work at things to proceed. Events won't just happen for the sake of happening. I learnt the lesson, but somehow, I have not acted upon it.
Maybe that's my resolution. To act upon the lesson I have learnt. If 2011 could skip to September, even bypassing the cricket season and the long, hot Summer, just so I could be away and seem respectable amongst peers. University would be here, and I could start again. Amongst new people, and new challenges, without the pressures of home pressed against my shoulders. I want it to come quickly now. I know the next few months are going to be near impossible, and 2011 will appear to turn out as bad as 2010 and 2009 were.
Looking back on the year, it's not all been bad, has it? I mean, I've had some work for most of the year, and despite me giving up as I tend to do, I haven't been under so much pressure from everyone else. I think most of the pressure has come from my own head, putting pressure on myself to better the people I get along with. I felt like I was being left behind by everyone in everything that life has to offer. Peers, moving on to bigger and better things, while I was left in the dust. It was my own fault.
And what is hopefully going to come towards the end of 2011, you must understand, is a huge risk for me. I don't do education. I don't do revision, or exams, or hard work, but there we are. Back at the ultimate lesson of life. Hard work pays off and laziness, or in other words, me, doesn't.
I look around my room now and I see reminders of how lazy I am, and have been. There is a dinner plate on the floor from earlier, along with a bowl and an empty cup, that I couldn't be bothered to make the small trip downstairs to deposit. My clothes from yesterday, in a pile by the wardrobe, left there for someone else to pick up. Letters from various banks and work and pay slips, in a pile for me to sort out. Not done so. I need to change, I need to get into habits that will make me an all-round better person.
I don't regret not being more of a family person. I like to keep myself to myself, and I think everyone in this house should accept that. By and large, they have done so, but on occasions, I feel they could have left me to make my own decisions, or mistakes, without throwing in their needless opinion. Advice it may be, but even if I act like a child sometimes, I need to make adult decisions by myself. I feel more comfort in telling problems to a few friends who I can trust to tell me what I need to hear, and not what I want to. Even if recently, they seem to have lost interest in my moaning. I don't blame them, I suppose.
As for everything else in 2010, I think it's been the same as it was in 2009. Not the greatest, but could of been worse, of course with good times, but, as with most things in my mind, mixed with the bad. I'm currently listening to a song called 'Changes' by Black Sabbath, which duly sums up my reflective mood at this moment.
Changes, are certainly what I will need if I am to survive 2011.
Bye x
Friday 31 December 2010
Thursday 30 December 2010
Operation Deposit
Wow. Well... Where do I start? No... seriously. Where do I start?
Erm... I am just sitting here, have been for 10 minutes now, just thinking about where I can start. There have been nights where one or all of us get complertly wasted, (yeah, you read that right), or nights where something so scandalous happens where you're emotions are let out in one big scream at a taxi driver. £8 for a kebab? Really?
But tonight, I just don't know. I really don't know. Ok. Let's make an attempt.
Once again, slightly strangely, the night started fairly early and we got to the Host's house, (same host... it's a party house!), at 8 via that wierd little alcohol shop on Chiltern Avenue as I realised, rather stupidly it seems, that I didn't have enough alcohol. Despite already holding a £10 bottle of my favourite, I decided to get a small bottle of vodka, that genuinely evaporated as soon as I got to the party. It got lost, and I haven't seen it since. A reward of £0 will be awarded if someone finds it.
The night started rather serenely while me and Beddoe looked at each other knowing what the other was thinking. Operation Deposit was under way. For the first hour or 2, we just sat around, attempting and failing to play a drinking version of poker and then Cheat, which didn't last very long as The Host's manic brother nearly broke the table with his ADHD. More on him later.
After me and Kets made a short trip to BP, (I tried to avoid going to work on this night of all nights, but I was forced!), to get some Red Bull so we could make Jaegerbombs, which also got stolen by others. Despicable. Not long after, we made the longer trip to Tesco's to get a whole bunch of things. I decided to take my pint of JD and JD and JD and JD and coke with me, rather stupidly, and had to leave it behind the wheel of the car as we went inside as the security guard stopped me. Probably his only bit of action all night. Not what I can say about others...
Luckily, my drink was a) still there and b) not spiked with anything, (hopefully), and we made out journey back. I had bought some caramel eggs if you're interested, but you're not. Actually, they're still there! Damn, so is my vodka and DAMN! So is my JD! They'll be gone tomorrow!
Apparently, I also love Justin Bieber, according to my upper arm. That'll take some explaining. What will also take some explaining is my text to Mother Mitten stating that, "yes.. i'm fine but I am being digested". The things drink does...
Later on into the night, after a few drinks, *ahem*, we decided to fall down the stairs multiple times, the last time of which I was dragged down by The Host's manic brother, and he also bit my neck in a vampire-esque way before, for no reason whatsoever, punched me in the gentleman's vegetables. No need. KO'd. We'll leave that there.
But all of these, quite frankly, were overshadowed by Operation Deposit. The operation was so successful, that it managed to leak over to 2 others, but I'm not allowed to talk about that...! The 2 I am allowed to talk about are dear Angry Man and the new Chief Waster.
Before I go any further, I would like to thank myself for being an excellent matchmaker in the face of potential adversity and my ability to take a massive gamble that paid dividends. No, it's got nothing to do with me, (well, maybe a bit..), but congratulations to the new couple! I would like to let you know, in the only way I know how, that I am not fussed one bit! Haha! I am very happy for Mr and Mrs Chief Waster. The operation, that started last night in the pub no less, worked!
Ahh, there are so many more things I could talk about, but I would literally be here until I go to university and that feels like a long time away. In other news, away from the party, I am already feeling the pressure from Mother and Father Mitten to find a new job, which, to be completely honest with you, I don't want to for a bit. I want to be a free man for a bit, and even though if I do start job-hunting, it would take some time again, I do want to feel free for a bit first. I have told everyone at BP that I have a job at Ladbrokes, just to shut them up. I do feel a bit embarrassed in leaving there with nowhere to go, but I would like an egid if I told them the truth. So we'll leave it there.
After tonight, the taxi man, (which I DIDN'T make cry this time...), dropped us off sort of near Beddoe's and I invited myself around for a chat about the night's events. We ended up watching Ashes highlights in near silence while examining the facebook for a while, before I decided to call it a night, (or a morning), and walk home. In fact, I ran, nearly slipped over, got stared at by a really wierd randomer, and dropped my golden box of presents before making it home. Lottie, (The Host), had so, so kindly bought everyone a whole host of Christmas presents, (no pun intended!), which was truly amazing! So much thought!
But tonight, so many memories will live on with the help of many, many ridiculous photos which will embarrass many of us in the morning. At the moment though, after experiencing the most ridiculous night since Mitten's records began....
I don't care!
Ciao x
Erm... I am just sitting here, have been for 10 minutes now, just thinking about where I can start. There have been nights where one or all of us get complertly wasted, (yeah, you read that right), or nights where something so scandalous happens where you're emotions are let out in one big scream at a taxi driver. £8 for a kebab? Really?
But tonight, I just don't know. I really don't know. Ok. Let's make an attempt.
Once again, slightly strangely, the night started fairly early and we got to the Host's house, (same host... it's a party house!), at 8 via that wierd little alcohol shop on Chiltern Avenue as I realised, rather stupidly it seems, that I didn't have enough alcohol. Despite already holding a £10 bottle of my favourite, I decided to get a small bottle of vodka, that genuinely evaporated as soon as I got to the party. It got lost, and I haven't seen it since. A reward of £0 will be awarded if someone finds it.
The night started rather serenely while me and Beddoe looked at each other knowing what the other was thinking. Operation Deposit was under way. For the first hour or 2, we just sat around, attempting and failing to play a drinking version of poker and then Cheat, which didn't last very long as The Host's manic brother nearly broke the table with his ADHD. More on him later.
After me and Kets made a short trip to BP, (I tried to avoid going to work on this night of all nights, but I was forced!), to get some Red Bull so we could make Jaegerbombs, which also got stolen by others. Despicable. Not long after, we made the longer trip to Tesco's to get a whole bunch of things. I decided to take my pint of JD and JD and JD and JD and coke with me, rather stupidly, and had to leave it behind the wheel of the car as we went inside as the security guard stopped me. Probably his only bit of action all night. Not what I can say about others...
Luckily, my drink was a) still there and b) not spiked with anything, (hopefully), and we made out journey back. I had bought some caramel eggs if you're interested, but you're not. Actually, they're still there! Damn, so is my vodka and DAMN! So is my JD! They'll be gone tomorrow!
Apparently, I also love Justin Bieber, according to my upper arm. That'll take some explaining. What will also take some explaining is my text to Mother Mitten stating that, "yes.. i'm fine but I am being digested". The things drink does...
Later on into the night, after a few drinks, *ahem*, we decided to fall down the stairs multiple times, the last time of which I was dragged down by The Host's manic brother, and he also bit my neck in a vampire-esque way before, for no reason whatsoever, punched me in the gentleman's vegetables. No need. KO'd. We'll leave that there.
But all of these, quite frankly, were overshadowed by Operation Deposit. The operation was so successful, that it managed to leak over to 2 others, but I'm not allowed to talk about that...! The 2 I am allowed to talk about are dear Angry Man and the new Chief Waster.
Before I go any further, I would like to thank myself for being an excellent matchmaker in the face of potential adversity and my ability to take a massive gamble that paid dividends. No, it's got nothing to do with me, (well, maybe a bit..), but congratulations to the new couple! I would like to let you know, in the only way I know how, that I am not fussed one bit! Haha! I am very happy for Mr and Mrs Chief Waster. The operation, that started last night in the pub no less, worked!
Ahh, there are so many more things I could talk about, but I would literally be here until I go to university and that feels like a long time away. In other news, away from the party, I am already feeling the pressure from Mother and Father Mitten to find a new job, which, to be completely honest with you, I don't want to for a bit. I want to be a free man for a bit, and even though if I do start job-hunting, it would take some time again, I do want to feel free for a bit first. I have told everyone at BP that I have a job at Ladbrokes, just to shut them up. I do feel a bit embarrassed in leaving there with nowhere to go, but I would like an egid if I told them the truth. So we'll leave it there.
After tonight, the taxi man, (which I DIDN'T make cry this time...), dropped us off sort of near Beddoe's and I invited myself around for a chat about the night's events. We ended up watching Ashes highlights in near silence while examining the facebook for a while, before I decided to call it a night, (or a morning), and walk home. In fact, I ran, nearly slipped over, got stared at by a really wierd randomer, and dropped my golden box of presents before making it home. Lottie, (The Host), had so, so kindly bought everyone a whole host of Christmas presents, (no pun intended!), which was truly amazing! So much thought!
But tonight, so many memories will live on with the help of many, many ridiculous photos which will embarrass many of us in the morning. At the moment though, after experiencing the most ridiculous night since Mitten's records began....
I don't care!
Ciao x
Tuesday 28 December 2010
The B-SOS Machine
I only went to sleep at 3.30am, thanks to some illegal internet Ashes viewing, and seeing as I thought Australia were going to bat well, I couldn't really be bothered to watch, so I went to sleep. Turns out they are as bad as everyone makes out!
But that's not the real story here. You see, I crashed out as soon as my head hit the pillow and as it's now 9.30am, I haven't had the whole night's sleep I was looking for. And the 6 hours I did get were filled with a truly exceptional and vivid dream that I will now tell you about! Since when has this blog been about dreams?!
Anyway, (I will tell you as much as I remember, as I now feel the details drifting away in the air), it is sort of an Inception theme, a dream inside a dream. I'm having a dream about having a dream about writing a feature-length film, called the B-SOS Machine. It is a time-machine, (I know... Doctor Who?), that has been maimed in a battle and is now an exhibit at a museum. This exhibition is visited by many school children, and during one visit, the time-machine instantly comes back to life, with a whole tour inside it and it vanishes from sight.
The owner of the museum, and subsequently the time-machine, played by myself none the less, is highly concerned. He gathers his team, (the workers at the museum), to talk about the problem. This meeting is the film. I can't really remember what happens from here, but it emerges that the time machine has been working all along and was never, "killed in battle". All of the workers have their own story of how they used the time machine when nobody was looking and they all converge on the harrowing events of the year before. There was a brutal double murder in the city, (which I, as the director aswell as the star, would show at the start of the film), where all the workers landed after being inside the time machine. The murder has remained a deep mystery ever since, which shows that the murderer must have travelled in time. Tensions rise, and stories start coming out of people's deepest secrets. There are fights and arguments and by the end of the film, it turns out the owner of the time machine, who thought it was dead, (played by me), was the murderer. Oooo!
Yeah. I know. I've just realised too that it doesn't sound very good, but I assure you when I was dreaming about this, it looked fantastic! The story was set and it was tense and dramatic! But, as with most dreams, when you come to write about it, the details just disappear... Don't ask me why it's called the B-SOS Machine either. It's just what it was called! It was a dream!
Anyway, back to reality, today is Tuesday and seeing as I'm awake at such a stupid hour, I might aswell stay awake. No point in staying up tonight to watch England destroy Australia and eat the dust for breakfast, so I think it's time to do things. Kettle was adament on, "doing something different", which will result in us going to a museum of our own, (a REAL museum), or getting eaten by monkeys. Still, it's something and as long as we go out for lunch first, I don't mind! Anything is better than the week at work I had to endure, which was slower than anything I have described as being slow in this blog. And that's a fair few things. Honestly, I thought the time was genuinely going backwards at one point...
But now, I only have 6 shifts remaining before I leave. I booked off a whole week of holiday, just because I could, on the week of my university interview. I realised yesterday, after being out of education for 18 months, that I have forgotten everything I have learned. I realised that it may be difficult for me to get back into the routine of doing education-type things that I haven't done in 18 months + the months where it all went wrong. I realised that it will certainly be more difficult than I expected.. But it has to be done.
Ahhh, I'm going back to sleep. I've felt all week being tired, so I don't want to spend another day doing so. Even if I do miss out on being eaten.
Cya x
But that's not the real story here. You see, I crashed out as soon as my head hit the pillow and as it's now 9.30am, I haven't had the whole night's sleep I was looking for. And the 6 hours I did get were filled with a truly exceptional and vivid dream that I will now tell you about! Since when has this blog been about dreams?!
Anyway, (I will tell you as much as I remember, as I now feel the details drifting away in the air), it is sort of an Inception theme, a dream inside a dream. I'm having a dream about having a dream about writing a feature-length film, called the B-SOS Machine. It is a time-machine, (I know... Doctor Who?), that has been maimed in a battle and is now an exhibit at a museum. This exhibition is visited by many school children, and during one visit, the time-machine instantly comes back to life, with a whole tour inside it and it vanishes from sight.
The owner of the museum, and subsequently the time-machine, played by myself none the less, is highly concerned. He gathers his team, (the workers at the museum), to talk about the problem. This meeting is the film. I can't really remember what happens from here, but it emerges that the time machine has been working all along and was never, "killed in battle". All of the workers have their own story of how they used the time machine when nobody was looking and they all converge on the harrowing events of the year before. There was a brutal double murder in the city, (which I, as the director aswell as the star, would show at the start of the film), where all the workers landed after being inside the time machine. The murder has remained a deep mystery ever since, which shows that the murderer must have travelled in time. Tensions rise, and stories start coming out of people's deepest secrets. There are fights and arguments and by the end of the film, it turns out the owner of the time machine, who thought it was dead, (played by me), was the murderer. Oooo!
Yeah. I know. I've just realised too that it doesn't sound very good, but I assure you when I was dreaming about this, it looked fantastic! The story was set and it was tense and dramatic! But, as with most dreams, when you come to write about it, the details just disappear... Don't ask me why it's called the B-SOS Machine either. It's just what it was called! It was a dream!
Anyway, back to reality, today is Tuesday and seeing as I'm awake at such a stupid hour, I might aswell stay awake. No point in staying up tonight to watch England destroy Australia and eat the dust for breakfast, so I think it's time to do things. Kettle was adament on, "doing something different", which will result in us going to a museum of our own, (a REAL museum), or getting eaten by monkeys. Still, it's something and as long as we go out for lunch first, I don't mind! Anything is better than the week at work I had to endure, which was slower than anything I have described as being slow in this blog. And that's a fair few things. Honestly, I thought the time was genuinely going backwards at one point...
But now, I only have 6 shifts remaining before I leave. I booked off a whole week of holiday, just because I could, on the week of my university interview. I realised yesterday, after being out of education for 18 months, that I have forgotten everything I have learned. I realised that it may be difficult for me to get back into the routine of doing education-type things that I haven't done in 18 months + the months where it all went wrong. I realised that it will certainly be more difficult than I expected.. But it has to be done.
Ahhh, I'm going back to sleep. I've felt all week being tired, so I don't want to spend another day doing so. Even if I do miss out on being eaten.
Cya x
Sunday 26 December 2010
Whatever Happened to Christmas?
You know when you step in through the front door from another endless, painful shift and you are greeted with a plate of posh profiterole dessert and a J2o, things are a little different. It's certainly tastier than the usual bowl of cornflakes and an orange juice, but it doesn't feel like a different day. It feels like the same old routine, but with a bit more ice.
You see, I made an effort yesterday. I tried beyond anything I've ever tried this year to enjoy it and look like I was enjoying it, up until I could take no more. The present opening, this time yesterday, was painstakingly similar to years gone before, but how else can you do it? The only difference was Mother Mitten asking where my present to her was. The truth is, I had only bought Mother and Father Mitten one combined present, whereas my sister had bought them loads of things. Mum was expecting more of me. It didn't come. Same old story.
The only difference this year, than every other year, was the absence of an old face sitting in the corner. I never thought how much this would affect me. I didn't think it would affect me at all in fact, but it did. As we went to lay flowers where she now rests, next to my late Grandfather, I couldn't help but think she would have enjoyed the occasion as much as she usually did, even if sometimes she didn't show it. Muddling through her Christmas lunch with the pace of a snail, dozing while the rest of us watch the same old Christmas tele. It was days like yesterday where I do miss my Grandma.
We visited the rest of the family, where my Uncle nonchalently described his way through the latest hospital experience and my cousin boasted about his recent Royal Variety performance with Take That.. I was sat in the corner, just wanting to go to sleep, but determined to seem interested in the exploits of everyone else.
I can't help being like this, you know. I can't help just wanting to keep myself to myself at times like this. But people expect differently, and on days like this, you don't want to be the one to ruin things.
Yesterday was different. I had Christmas lunch, although not a lot of it, and then my day had ended by 2pm. Work tonight, and when 9pm came round all too quickly, I was viciously tired. It had been a day where I had to work hard to try and not be a Scrooge. Mentally tough. It was hard realising that everyone else was winding down, but you had to do the same old rubbish. Why am I working at Christmas? What has happened to what was once the most magical day?
I happened, that's what.
You see, I made an effort yesterday. I tried beyond anything I've ever tried this year to enjoy it and look like I was enjoying it, up until I could take no more. The present opening, this time yesterday, was painstakingly similar to years gone before, but how else can you do it? The only difference was Mother Mitten asking where my present to her was. The truth is, I had only bought Mother and Father Mitten one combined present, whereas my sister had bought them loads of things. Mum was expecting more of me. It didn't come. Same old story.
The only difference this year, than every other year, was the absence of an old face sitting in the corner. I never thought how much this would affect me. I didn't think it would affect me at all in fact, but it did. As we went to lay flowers where she now rests, next to my late Grandfather, I couldn't help but think she would have enjoyed the occasion as much as she usually did, even if sometimes she didn't show it. Muddling through her Christmas lunch with the pace of a snail, dozing while the rest of us watch the same old Christmas tele. It was days like yesterday where I do miss my Grandma.
We visited the rest of the family, where my Uncle nonchalently described his way through the latest hospital experience and my cousin boasted about his recent Royal Variety performance with Take That.. I was sat in the corner, just wanting to go to sleep, but determined to seem interested in the exploits of everyone else.
I can't help being like this, you know. I can't help just wanting to keep myself to myself at times like this. But people expect differently, and on days like this, you don't want to be the one to ruin things.
Yesterday was different. I had Christmas lunch, although not a lot of it, and then my day had ended by 2pm. Work tonight, and when 9pm came round all too quickly, I was viciously tired. It had been a day where I had to work hard to try and not be a Scrooge. Mentally tough. It was hard realising that everyone else was winding down, but you had to do the same old rubbish. Why am I working at Christmas? What has happened to what was once the most magical day?
I happened, that's what.
Friday 24 December 2010
The Fat Parking Meter
There have been a few stories, some funny and some painful, about the joys of parking meters over the years. In fact, I can only think of one. It resulted in a probable broken set of ribs for Kettle as he sprinted straight into the middle of one, in the dark. Since then, the argument for making parking meters to wear Hi-Vi jackets has been proven.
This morning though, a not so funny one. You see, I had decided, as I said earlier, to not embarrass myself on Christmas morning and went to buy some presents for the fammo but nearly didn't make it into town at all due to a ridiculous parking meter, its subsequent system and a workaholic traffic warden.
De Parys Avenue charges for parking, which in itself is an absolute disgrace, and the only £1 coin I had in my wallet went into the machine. Except I thought the trend was, "I pay you and you give me a ticket", but apparently, this parking meter was being what I was going to do this Christmas. Taking and not giving. Great. I had no more change, so I had to ring the automated service. The most pointless device ever created, and possibly the worst.
It asked me to verify my car number plate. W-4-9-8 ... J-F-G .... Did you say V458 AFD? Nooooooo! How stupid are you?!
"What is the make of your car?"
"Citroen"
"Did you say ... Proton?"
I mean, really? Who drives around in a Proton? Is this the return karma for my actions of last Saturday night? I eventually got it to repeat my details correctly, before waltzing off into town, making sure not to slip on the vast quantities of ice that had formed and got my presents in double quick time before heading back to the car, colder than an eskimo in shorts.
Yeah, you can guess what's going to happen can't you. A small yellow sleeve had appeared on my windscreen notifying me that a PCN had been issued and I had to pay a £50 fine! What sort of egid works on a Christmas Eve morning, dishing out parking fines??? I was incensed. I rang the number immediately and said, "Your stupid machine swallowed my money so I had to ring the f****** automated number and STILL you give me a ticket?!" ... Admittedly, the woman on the other end of the phone, seeing as it was early in the morning, took my abuse quite well and then went on to tell me she did have record of my payment and to throw the PCN away as she had cancelled it. Thank Ian Bell for that!
All of that for trying to make an iota of effort this Christmas. I knew I shouldn't have bothered! No, I suppose if I'm going to live through it, I might aswell take part to the best of my ability. But now, seeing as it's work as usual tonight, I'm off to bed.
Night x
This morning though, a not so funny one. You see, I had decided, as I said earlier, to not embarrass myself on Christmas morning and went to buy some presents for the fammo but nearly didn't make it into town at all due to a ridiculous parking meter, its subsequent system and a workaholic traffic warden.
De Parys Avenue charges for parking, which in itself is an absolute disgrace, and the only £1 coin I had in my wallet went into the machine. Except I thought the trend was, "I pay you and you give me a ticket", but apparently, this parking meter was being what I was going to do this Christmas. Taking and not giving. Great. I had no more change, so I had to ring the automated service. The most pointless device ever created, and possibly the worst.
It asked me to verify my car number plate. W-4-9-8 ... J-F-G .... Did you say V458 AFD? Nooooooo! How stupid are you?!
"What is the make of your car?"
"Citroen"
"Did you say ... Proton?"
I mean, really? Who drives around in a Proton? Is this the return karma for my actions of last Saturday night? I eventually got it to repeat my details correctly, before waltzing off into town, making sure not to slip on the vast quantities of ice that had formed and got my presents in double quick time before heading back to the car, colder than an eskimo in shorts.
Yeah, you can guess what's going to happen can't you. A small yellow sleeve had appeared on my windscreen notifying me that a PCN had been issued and I had to pay a £50 fine! What sort of egid works on a Christmas Eve morning, dishing out parking fines??? I was incensed. I rang the number immediately and said, "Your stupid machine swallowed my money so I had to ring the f****** automated number and STILL you give me a ticket?!" ... Admittedly, the woman on the other end of the phone, seeing as it was early in the morning, took my abuse quite well and then went on to tell me she did have record of my payment and to throw the PCN away as she had cancelled it. Thank Ian Bell for that!
All of that for trying to make an iota of effort this Christmas. I knew I shouldn't have bothered! No, I suppose if I'm going to live through it, I might aswell take part to the best of my ability. But now, seeing as it's work as usual tonight, I'm off to bed.
Night x
Bad Vibes
Ohhhhh k ... she did read it. And upon being asked what she'd like for Christmas she retorted, (by text, as I had left the house for work without muttering a word), "Not to matter, because I'm not 6 and will survive without a present". Ouch. Using my own words against me!
I know, I am being a monumental Scrooge at the moment but who can blame me? It's alright if you're sitting at home, keeping warm, playing Happy Families, but if you have to go to Hell every night and put up with drunken and abusive customers or tired and abusive customers, what else can you expect? However, I will stay awake long enough today to go and and scrabble some presents together and hastily wrap them up in time for tomorrow morning, which is just another day let's face it, and I will avoid the embarrassment of not buying anything. Even if I will have to face the pre-assumed happiness that people will have at my "fantastic thought". Sorry, but it's true.
Tonight was, without question, horrible. I got the expected telling off from Bastard Chris for not doing anything on Wednesday night and I did exactly what I said I was going to. Say, "fine", and walk off. Then the whole fiasco by text happened, which made me a little upset, and then around a couple of people declaring their undying love for me, the night went dangerously slow up until 6am where I bought my EuroMillions ticket and fooked off! Was incredibly boring... I can't be bothered to go into detail about the interesting part of that paragraph either. They wouldn't thank me for it..
Besides, I have a grumpy streak to uphold. I'm not doing it on purpose honestly, I just severely dislike this season, even more so because I have to be in Hell during it. The only thing that can improve my currently hazardous mood is if the above EuroMillions ticket brings in over a million quid. Anything else, and I'm still not happy.
There's that 'H' word again...
Just in case I wasn't happy enough aswell, I was warned I may face 4 hours alone at work tomorrow night, because, and I quote, "no-one else can be bothered to work those hours".
Sums up my life doesn't it really!
Cya x
I know, I am being a monumental Scrooge at the moment but who can blame me? It's alright if you're sitting at home, keeping warm, playing Happy Families, but if you have to go to Hell every night and put up with drunken and abusive customers or tired and abusive customers, what else can you expect? However, I will stay awake long enough today to go and and scrabble some presents together and hastily wrap them up in time for tomorrow morning, which is just another day let's face it, and I will avoid the embarrassment of not buying anything. Even if I will have to face the pre-assumed happiness that people will have at my "fantastic thought". Sorry, but it's true.
Tonight was, without question, horrible. I got the expected telling off from Bastard Chris for not doing anything on Wednesday night and I did exactly what I said I was going to. Say, "fine", and walk off. Then the whole fiasco by text happened, which made me a little upset, and then around a couple of people declaring their undying love for me, the night went dangerously slow up until 6am where I bought my EuroMillions ticket and fooked off! Was incredibly boring... I can't be bothered to go into detail about the interesting part of that paragraph either. They wouldn't thank me for it..
Besides, I have a grumpy streak to uphold. I'm not doing it on purpose honestly, I just severely dislike this season, even more so because I have to be in Hell during it. The only thing that can improve my currently hazardous mood is if the above EuroMillions ticket brings in over a million quid. Anything else, and I'm still not happy.
There's that 'H' word again...
Just in case I wasn't happy enough aswell, I was warned I may face 4 hours alone at work tomorrow night, because, and I quote, "no-one else can be bothered to work those hours".
Sums up my life doesn't it really!
Cya x
Thursday 23 December 2010
Attitude
My attitude towards everything has been rather poor recently.
Ever since I handed in my notice, my effort at work has gone from a fairly solid percentage to ... well... nothing. Why should I put in any effort if no one else is going to and in a few weeks I'll be gone anyway? I may well get a bollocking tomorrow for missing out a number of things but why should I care? I'll just say, "fine", and get on with it. They can't do a lot...
My attitude towards Christmas is a strange one aswell. I know full well I am working all of this week and frankly, I just cannot be bothered with all the, "thankyoooous" and rubbish samey-samey rubbish that only Christmas can bring. I haven't even bought anyone any Christmas presents yet and seeing as I'm nearly falling asleep typing this, I am not going to stay awake to go into town today to buy anything. The same will probably happen tomorrow, and then I will be greeted with disappointed family as I take and don't give on Christmas morning...
Before going back to bed.
Because that is who I am, and have been, for the last 9 months. Just a nocturnal alien who seems ... alienated... from everyone else. I know 'Not Buying Christmas Presents' is just an act of laziness, but part of me just doesn't care. I disike Christmas, and shouldn't have to act like I care just because everyone else keeps playing the charade. What's the difference in me buying them something now or buying them something a couple of days after Christmas, when I'm not clinically dead? They'll still get it. Just a little late..
Just the whole cliched uselessness that Christmas brings, actually does make me sick. The only thing I really need is a new pair of headphones, as the ones I'm currently listening to Coldplay through are quite physically painful on my ears. I pointed this out, stating I only wanted headphones and I don't need anything else, but apparently I "have" to have some other things because it will seem "unfair". I mean, seriously? I'm not 6. I will survive not having any presents. And of course the yearly riddle of, "Who Has Grandma for Xmas Day?" is no longer needed, which is a shame, and it does also seem a little wierd. Our family and my Uncle's family used to share Grandma year on year, (yep! She was a parcel!), but this year, the problem isn't there!
My perfect Christmas this year? Not being hassled too much at work the night before, and some good TV to catch up on when I come home. Otherwise, let me sleep. But it won't happen. I will be shepharded awake by my Sister at Ridiculous O'Clock and if I go to sleep before Christmas Lunch, (which I will undoubtedly will want to), then I will be criticised by everyone, as with anything, for being a grumpy Scrooge. I will be shouted at by Sister Mitten, who is almost like a 2nd Mother Mitten, for upsetting the family home and I won't give a jiffy as usual. I can see it happening already.
If you do happen to be reading this, which you're not, then come Christmas Morning, just leave me alone, and save everyone the trouble.
Ciao x
Ever since I handed in my notice, my effort at work has gone from a fairly solid percentage to ... well... nothing. Why should I put in any effort if no one else is going to and in a few weeks I'll be gone anyway? I may well get a bollocking tomorrow for missing out a number of things but why should I care? I'll just say, "fine", and get on with it. They can't do a lot...
My attitude towards Christmas is a strange one aswell. I know full well I am working all of this week and frankly, I just cannot be bothered with all the, "thankyoooous" and rubbish samey-samey rubbish that only Christmas can bring. I haven't even bought anyone any Christmas presents yet and seeing as I'm nearly falling asleep typing this, I am not going to stay awake to go into town today to buy anything. The same will probably happen tomorrow, and then I will be greeted with disappointed family as I take and don't give on Christmas morning...
Before going back to bed.
Because that is who I am, and have been, for the last 9 months. Just a nocturnal alien who seems ... alienated... from everyone else. I know 'Not Buying Christmas Presents' is just an act of laziness, but part of me just doesn't care. I disike Christmas, and shouldn't have to act like I care just because everyone else keeps playing the charade. What's the difference in me buying them something now or buying them something a couple of days after Christmas, when I'm not clinically dead? They'll still get it. Just a little late..
Just the whole cliched uselessness that Christmas brings, actually does make me sick. The only thing I really need is a new pair of headphones, as the ones I'm currently listening to Coldplay through are quite physically painful on my ears. I pointed this out, stating I only wanted headphones and I don't need anything else, but apparently I "have" to have some other things because it will seem "unfair". I mean, seriously? I'm not 6. I will survive not having any presents. And of course the yearly riddle of, "Who Has Grandma for Xmas Day?" is no longer needed, which is a shame, and it does also seem a little wierd. Our family and my Uncle's family used to share Grandma year on year, (yep! She was a parcel!), but this year, the problem isn't there!
My perfect Christmas this year? Not being hassled too much at work the night before, and some good TV to catch up on when I come home. Otherwise, let me sleep. But it won't happen. I will be shepharded awake by my Sister at Ridiculous O'Clock and if I go to sleep before Christmas Lunch, (which I will undoubtedly will want to), then I will be criticised by everyone, as with anything, for being a grumpy Scrooge. I will be shouted at by Sister Mitten, who is almost like a 2nd Mother Mitten, for upsetting the family home and I won't give a jiffy as usual. I can see it happening already.
If you do happen to be reading this, which you're not, then come Christmas Morning, just leave me alone, and save everyone the trouble.
Ciao x
Wednesday 22 December 2010
Reading The Past
I've just spent the last two and a half hours reading some of my former blog posts, trying to decipher what has been happening in my mind for the past year and I have come to the conclusion that nothing has changed.
I still think negatively, try and fight the negativity by thinking positively, being positive for a few days, before going back to being negative. The one trend I noticed after reading through the brief days with SmartMove, then the first job hunt, then the BP days and the struggle with the Wall up to recent times. The same cycle. Over and over and over...
I noticed one line aswell. I forget in which post, but I noticed. "If I don't have a job in February 2011, I may aswell just kill myself". Obviously, I meant if I hadn't found a job for a whole year, then I would die, but obviously BP came along. And I also noticed, that when I am out of work, my spelling and grammer become absolutely atrocious! Some of them are just typos, but some of them are just plain bad. I saw a sentence in one of my old posts. It said this:
"Their goal was a proper bad goal, And the Gaffer was'nt too happy either!"
I mean, that's just shoddy!
The Summer days were certainly much better. Longer, warmer and more light were contributing factors and I enjoyed the cricket season. It gave me something to look forward to, which is why I decided a few days back that I would put some money aside from my final, (but large), pay packet from BP to pay for the coming season. £30 registration plus around £7 per week for match fees. I need to play. I need something to look forward to. I have also asked myself whether I've made the right decision to leave BP. Most people would say, "no". It's a job and you need a job. They don't have to live with working nights and working with an epileptic though. It's all very well saying, "you need to stay in work", and I can see their reasoning, but when you actually have to do it...? Working through the night, working with someone who is clearly ill, and spending nights alone, with only your negative mind for company... I cannot explain how happy I am to be leaving that place.
And yes, in a couple of months, I may not have work and I may not have enough money and I may wish I had stayed there, but then I will remember the pain I felt at being alienated and the only company I would have was the worst human being on the planet. There have been times since I handed my notice in where I thought I was making a mistake, but ultimately, I don't think I am. I HATE being awake through the night, with NO ONE to talk to. I hate being alone.
That is one thing I will change from last time. The last time I was out of work, I spent all day asleep and all night awake and maybe that was part of the problem most of the blog posts were highly reflective and down. This time, I need to get into a .... into a ... routine. Eurgh, I hate that word. I need to be awake during the day, around people, talking to people, even if I am out of work.
It's easier said than done with me, honestly.
Looking on the bright side, I am working all of this coming week, (yes, including Xmas Eve, Xmas Day AND Boxing Day), which means double and triple time for my troubles which means much needed money for the future and, seeing as I won't have a job, a post-Christmas resurrection of the refereeing career. Part of me looks forward to it, and part of me, doesn't want to do it. This week at work incidentally, is my last ever full-time week at BP, as I've taken off 6th-7th January to attend my University interview at Bath University. Did I mention that? I've got an interview for my course, which is truly fantastic news! Magic Man told me, rather drunkenly admittedly, on Saturday, that an interview usually means they've practically accepted you. I won't take his word for it though! No complacency from Mitten.
I do want to start refereeing again, because it's refereeing. I loved and loathed refereeing so much before, becayse it's an adventure I need to keep me sane. And the money will come in handy aswell. I don't want to continue, because during the times I loathe it, (not often), it's horrible and refereeing adult football makes that more brutal. But I will definitely start up again. In fact, I will send a couple of e-mails now!
Whatever happens though, the next few months, (8 months at maximum if University works out), it's going to be tough. The parents will have a go at me at some points, and this blog will have parts where I talk about being so down that nothing can be done about it, but there will also be times of happiness and good times, and I simply have to revel in these times. For my own sanity.
There are things to look forward to. I'm going to Manchester at the end of January, even if my bank account screams at me, the cricket season, (despite yesterday being the shortest day of the year), is only getting closer and I've already paid for 5-a-side football for the next 10 weeks. Things will happen. And I am working for the next 3 weeks.
Things will get harder. Things will get tougher. I will need all of your support in 2011 more than ever, but good events will happen. All is not bad, and even though there will be bad times....
.... Oh, what's the point? 2011 is going to be exactly the same as 2010. Maybe from September onwards, it will be very different, but until then:
Up, down, up, down, my mind will go.
All The Best x
I still think negatively, try and fight the negativity by thinking positively, being positive for a few days, before going back to being negative. The one trend I noticed after reading through the brief days with SmartMove, then the first job hunt, then the BP days and the struggle with the Wall up to recent times. The same cycle. Over and over and over...
I noticed one line aswell. I forget in which post, but I noticed. "If I don't have a job in February 2011, I may aswell just kill myself". Obviously, I meant if I hadn't found a job for a whole year, then I would die, but obviously BP came along. And I also noticed, that when I am out of work, my spelling and grammer become absolutely atrocious! Some of them are just typos, but some of them are just plain bad. I saw a sentence in one of my old posts. It said this:
"Their goal was a proper bad goal, And the Gaffer was'nt too happy either!"
I mean, that's just shoddy!
The Summer days were certainly much better. Longer, warmer and more light were contributing factors and I enjoyed the cricket season. It gave me something to look forward to, which is why I decided a few days back that I would put some money aside from my final, (but large), pay packet from BP to pay for the coming season. £30 registration plus around £7 per week for match fees. I need to play. I need something to look forward to. I have also asked myself whether I've made the right decision to leave BP. Most people would say, "no". It's a job and you need a job. They don't have to live with working nights and working with an epileptic though. It's all very well saying, "you need to stay in work", and I can see their reasoning, but when you actually have to do it...? Working through the night, working with someone who is clearly ill, and spending nights alone, with only your negative mind for company... I cannot explain how happy I am to be leaving that place.
And yes, in a couple of months, I may not have work and I may not have enough money and I may wish I had stayed there, but then I will remember the pain I felt at being alienated and the only company I would have was the worst human being on the planet. There have been times since I handed my notice in where I thought I was making a mistake, but ultimately, I don't think I am. I HATE being awake through the night, with NO ONE to talk to. I hate being alone.
That is one thing I will change from last time. The last time I was out of work, I spent all day asleep and all night awake and maybe that was part of the problem most of the blog posts were highly reflective and down. This time, I need to get into a .... into a ... routine. Eurgh, I hate that word. I need to be awake during the day, around people, talking to people, even if I am out of work.
It's easier said than done with me, honestly.
Looking on the bright side, I am working all of this coming week, (yes, including Xmas Eve, Xmas Day AND Boxing Day), which means double and triple time for my troubles which means much needed money for the future and, seeing as I won't have a job, a post-Christmas resurrection of the refereeing career. Part of me looks forward to it, and part of me, doesn't want to do it. This week at work incidentally, is my last ever full-time week at BP, as I've taken off 6th-7th January to attend my University interview at Bath University. Did I mention that? I've got an interview for my course, which is truly fantastic news! Magic Man told me, rather drunkenly admittedly, on Saturday, that an interview usually means they've practically accepted you. I won't take his word for it though! No complacency from Mitten.
I do want to start refereeing again, because it's refereeing. I loved and loathed refereeing so much before, becayse it's an adventure I need to keep me sane. And the money will come in handy aswell. I don't want to continue, because during the times I loathe it, (not often), it's horrible and refereeing adult football makes that more brutal. But I will definitely start up again. In fact, I will send a couple of e-mails now!
Whatever happens though, the next few months, (8 months at maximum if University works out), it's going to be tough. The parents will have a go at me at some points, and this blog will have parts where I talk about being so down that nothing can be done about it, but there will also be times of happiness and good times, and I simply have to revel in these times. For my own sanity.
There are things to look forward to. I'm going to Manchester at the end of January, even if my bank account screams at me, the cricket season, (despite yesterday being the shortest day of the year), is only getting closer and I've already paid for 5-a-side football for the next 10 weeks. Things will happen. And I am working for the next 3 weeks.
Things will get harder. Things will get tougher. I will need all of your support in 2011 more than ever, but good events will happen. All is not bad, and even though there will be bad times....
.... Oh, what's the point? 2011 is going to be exactly the same as 2010. Maybe from September onwards, it will be very different, but until then:
Up, down, up, down, my mind will go.
All The Best x
My Position
Why is it wrong that I wake people up when I move about the house at night, but it's Ok for people to wake me up during the day? Why is it I get berated for going out at night when it's the time of day I'm awake? Why would I sleep in my room all day, (which I need to), and then stay in my room all night just to make other people happy? People don't understand me.
I can't think why my family think I should keep this stupid night job and then expect me to be completely silent on my nights off. Shut away in my room making sure everyone else gets their beauty sleep, to make sure they're happy and content. Just unfair.
It's alright for my sister to come back from university and instantly dictate as to what should happen and what shouldn't happen, but I'm not allowed to make decisions about my own life without people questioning them and criticising me for it.
Every time I go out at night, to see someone, or to get food, it annoys my family, yet they want me to keep a night job, where I am out all night. How does that make sense? What do they think I'm going to do when I pop out for half an hour? Go on a murdurous rampage?
I may not act like I'm an adult sometimes. I know I can be an idiot and a nuisance at times, but these times are fuelled by you three questioning my decisions all the time. I have said in the past, and will say it for as long as I need to, leave me to live my own life. I am an adult, and in the times you leave me to it, I am just that.
As soon as you start patronising, that's when I turn. So please learn to leave me alone, or I may just explode.
I can't think why my family think I should keep this stupid night job and then expect me to be completely silent on my nights off. Shut away in my room making sure everyone else gets their beauty sleep, to make sure they're happy and content. Just unfair.
It's alright for my sister to come back from university and instantly dictate as to what should happen and what shouldn't happen, but I'm not allowed to make decisions about my own life without people questioning them and criticising me for it.
Every time I go out at night, to see someone, or to get food, it annoys my family, yet they want me to keep a night job, where I am out all night. How does that make sense? What do they think I'm going to do when I pop out for half an hour? Go on a murdurous rampage?
I may not act like I'm an adult sometimes. I know I can be an idiot and a nuisance at times, but these times are fuelled by you three questioning my decisions all the time. I have said in the past, and will say it for as long as I need to, leave me to live my own life. I am an adult, and in the times you leave me to it, I am just that.
As soon as you start patronising, that's when I turn. So please learn to leave me alone, or I may just explode.
Monday 20 December 2010
Driving In A Monster Truck Arena
What in the name of Andrew Strauss has happened the last couple of days... I have had some weekend and what's more, seeing as it's now Christmas Week, it's not about to end very soon!
Right. I honestly don't know where to begin! Saturday morning. I came in from work, at about 6.20am, rather cold and was a bit down I seem to remember. I was still a bit upset that I would be missing out on most of the Christmas party that was to commence that evening and I would be missing out on the whole spectacle of Christmas generally. I went to sleep in an unhappy mood, coughing incredibly loudly, making me sound like Chewbacca and woke up to a cocophony of absolute madness. It was about 5pm, and the phone was ringing. I picked it up and it was Mother Mitten.
"Tom, we're just driving back from town. It's taken us 45 minutes to get on to De Parys Avenue, (about 1/4 mile from town), so we won't be back for ages yet!")
Blimey, what the hell is going on? Why are they taking forever? I took a look out the window and was presented with my answer. Snow. Lots of snow. But I didn't realise the full extent of the snow until I stepped outside myself. I was expecting a fair smattering, but my whole foot sank underneath and part of my leg was submersed in white powdery snowness. Oh my god! This is insanity! I was planning to go to the first couple of hours of this party, before I had to go to work at 10, but suddenly... Idea.
I am not proud of this. So if you're reading Mother Mitten and/or Father Mitten, I am sorry. Sort of. You see, As it was snowing, and the party started at 7, I decided to leave a bit early to make it in time via a few friend's houses. I rang Mother Mitten and told her I was leaving now, and I was taking my work clothes with me to change there.
"I'll see you in the morning!"
I then, rang work. 5.40pm it was and I rang work. It was Bastard Chris again and I put on my best croaky voice and told him it was impossible I could come in. He strangely accepted it straight away and put the phone down. I had successfully called in sick. You can see where this is going...
Home thought I was at work. Work thought I was at home. Where was I? Party! My plan was to stay until 6am, which was allowed, and change into my work clothes and go home then, no one would be none the wiser! I was suddenly very excited...
It didn't really go to plan. I wasn't busted, but despite "calling in sick", I was still ill. I couldn't really drink that much in case I went too far and end up screwing the plan up. Also, I physically couldn't swallow after a while so drinking anything was impossible. We got there at about 7.30pm, head to foot in snow and socialised. It was fun. I did enjoy myself, even if it looked like I wasn't towards the end and the antics on show were a joy to behold. Sometimes it's fun to just stay sober and watch as your friends slowly sink into their drinking trousers. Even if I was coaxed into kissing Rob because someone managed to see off a whole cup of vodka at once. He enjoyed it really! Some people, no names, (*cough* Beddoe *cough cough* Kettle), made a fool of themselves in different ways and it was very funny. They were genuine coughs by the way..
The party turned into a bit of a strange atmosphere as a few uninvited randomers turned up, but they were soon turfed out and it turned a bit hollow. People had drunk too much too soon and couldn't last much later than 1.30am. It was time to go. It didn't really matter I got home at 2am, (after hastily changing into work clothes in the back of the Mittenmobile... that was chilly!), I just told Mother Mitten I came home sick, and she accepted it. I didn't get busted and all was well. (Well, didn't get busted, until now!)
I stayed in bed most of yesterday. Genuinely very ill and I slept solidly from 2am to 5pm. I called in sick, genuinely, and Chris accepted it. However, an hour later, I had a change of heart and rang and said I'll muddle through. Suddenly, after handing in my notice and calling in sick all weekend, I seem to be in his good books now! Me, Roger, Pibby and Kettle went out for a much-needed Sunday night curry before I snow-ploughed my way to work. Hence the title, the roads by this point resemble black sludge and the forecourt at work looked like an arena where Monster Trucks do their thing. I spent most of it outside in the freezing cold, (-12 you know), shovelling away snow and gritting the forecourt.
I came back with an ice cube as a nose.
And now, I am tucked up in my warm bed with a packet of Soothers. It's been one hell of a weekend and although I have got through it by treacherous lying and not even mentioning the cricket once...
I have enjoyed the craziness of it all!
Cya x
Right. I honestly don't know where to begin! Saturday morning. I came in from work, at about 6.20am, rather cold and was a bit down I seem to remember. I was still a bit upset that I would be missing out on most of the Christmas party that was to commence that evening and I would be missing out on the whole spectacle of Christmas generally. I went to sleep in an unhappy mood, coughing incredibly loudly, making me sound like Chewbacca and woke up to a cocophony of absolute madness. It was about 5pm, and the phone was ringing. I picked it up and it was Mother Mitten.
"Tom, we're just driving back from town. It's taken us 45 minutes to get on to De Parys Avenue, (about 1/4 mile from town), so we won't be back for ages yet!")
Blimey, what the hell is going on? Why are they taking forever? I took a look out the window and was presented with my answer. Snow. Lots of snow. But I didn't realise the full extent of the snow until I stepped outside myself. I was expecting a fair smattering, but my whole foot sank underneath and part of my leg was submersed in white powdery snowness. Oh my god! This is insanity! I was planning to go to the first couple of hours of this party, before I had to go to work at 10, but suddenly... Idea.
I am not proud of this. So if you're reading Mother Mitten and/or Father Mitten, I am sorry. Sort of. You see, As it was snowing, and the party started at 7, I decided to leave a bit early to make it in time via a few friend's houses. I rang Mother Mitten and told her I was leaving now, and I was taking my work clothes with me to change there.
"I'll see you in the morning!"
I then, rang work. 5.40pm it was and I rang work. It was Bastard Chris again and I put on my best croaky voice and told him it was impossible I could come in. He strangely accepted it straight away and put the phone down. I had successfully called in sick. You can see where this is going...
Home thought I was at work. Work thought I was at home. Where was I? Party! My plan was to stay until 6am, which was allowed, and change into my work clothes and go home then, no one would be none the wiser! I was suddenly very excited...
It didn't really go to plan. I wasn't busted, but despite "calling in sick", I was still ill. I couldn't really drink that much in case I went too far and end up screwing the plan up. Also, I physically couldn't swallow after a while so drinking anything was impossible. We got there at about 7.30pm, head to foot in snow and socialised. It was fun. I did enjoy myself, even if it looked like I wasn't towards the end and the antics on show were a joy to behold. Sometimes it's fun to just stay sober and watch as your friends slowly sink into their drinking trousers. Even if I was coaxed into kissing Rob because someone managed to see off a whole cup of vodka at once. He enjoyed it really! Some people, no names, (*cough* Beddoe *cough cough* Kettle), made a fool of themselves in different ways and it was very funny. They were genuine coughs by the way..
The party turned into a bit of a strange atmosphere as a few uninvited randomers turned up, but they were soon turfed out and it turned a bit hollow. People had drunk too much too soon and couldn't last much later than 1.30am. It was time to go. It didn't really matter I got home at 2am, (after hastily changing into work clothes in the back of the Mittenmobile... that was chilly!), I just told Mother Mitten I came home sick, and she accepted it. I didn't get busted and all was well. (Well, didn't get busted, until now!)
I stayed in bed most of yesterday. Genuinely very ill and I slept solidly from 2am to 5pm. I called in sick, genuinely, and Chris accepted it. However, an hour later, I had a change of heart and rang and said I'll muddle through. Suddenly, after handing in my notice and calling in sick all weekend, I seem to be in his good books now! Me, Roger, Pibby and Kettle went out for a much-needed Sunday night curry before I snow-ploughed my way to work. Hence the title, the roads by this point resemble black sludge and the forecourt at work looked like an arena where Monster Trucks do their thing. I spent most of it outside in the freezing cold, (-12 you know), shovelling away snow and gritting the forecourt.
I came back with an ice cube as a nose.
And now, I am tucked up in my warm bed with a packet of Soothers. It's been one hell of a weekend and although I have got through it by treacherous lying and not even mentioning the cricket once...
I have enjoyed the craziness of it all!
Cya x
Saturday 18 December 2010
Crunch Time
Yesterday evening was a very big few hours for me. Very big. I was vastly bored and struggling with this illness and suddenly it hit me that everyone was back, and were planning to party hard. The pain was hard to bear.
I felt very unwell yesterday. Genuinely, very unwell and I called in sick but called in sick to the one person I didn't want to call in sick to. Chris. The bastard, Chris, who point blankedly dismissed that I was genuinely sick enough to not come in, and told me to anyway.
"If you don't come in, I'm putting it down as AWOL".
I was absolutely incensed. Furious. That is completely against the rule book and I flipped big time. That, with everything else going on, was the last straw. Instantly, I decided that's enough. I'm not even going to bother working my notice, I just won't turn up. Then he can put a genuine 'AWOL' next to my name on the rota. Straight away, I started thinking what I would say to the parents. They would obviously realise that I hadn't left for work so I would have to tell them. I had no choice. I was more confident telling Mum than Dad. I knew Mum would be angry but I feared Dad would actually flip. Mum came upstairs and I told her what I was going to do. Not like last time, where I just did it, and left the rents to find out for themselves. However, the reaction was not good.
"We're back here again aren't we. What is wrong with you, Thomas?!"
When she gets angry, she calls me by my proper name. Thomas. She went more mad than I had expected but I kept calm and fought my corner and kept my own. Dad got involved and strangely, he understood where I was coming from, but urged me to not just give in straight away like I was planning to. I explained to him what I had explained to Mum.
- The manager has rejected my sickness and my notice a couple of weeks ago.
- I am working with an epileptic egid who endangers me beyond reason.
- I'm fed up with working the stupid hours. It's generally killing me.
After a bit more of a discussion, we made a compromise and agreed we would do it properly. I would type out a letter of notice and give it to Chris when I turned up to work that evening. And I would turn up. I did.
Except Chris wasn't there. It was the Goddess of All Evil. Chris had finished at 8pm apparently, so I left it in his tray for him to find when he comes in at 2pm today. I have officially handed in my notice and my last working day will be Sunday 16th January 2011. Mum still isn't happy about it, claiming I will be a layabout doing nothing, and I suppose she's right. But it's better that than my safety being at risk. She said I should take The Wall case to, "higher authorities", but surprisingly, Dad jumped to my defence stating it would all end up in the hands of the store manager, (Bastard Chris), in the end anyway. My decision was made. No more BP.
Ironically, The Wall was off sick and will be all weekend so I was working with a couple of others who were a bit more of a laugh and the chance of them having an epileptic fit were a lot smaller! I feel a bit of a proper illness coming on though...
Ciao x
I felt very unwell yesterday. Genuinely, very unwell and I called in sick but called in sick to the one person I didn't want to call in sick to. Chris. The bastard, Chris, who point blankedly dismissed that I was genuinely sick enough to not come in, and told me to anyway.
"If you don't come in, I'm putting it down as AWOL".
I was absolutely incensed. Furious. That is completely against the rule book and I flipped big time. That, with everything else going on, was the last straw. Instantly, I decided that's enough. I'm not even going to bother working my notice, I just won't turn up. Then he can put a genuine 'AWOL' next to my name on the rota. Straight away, I started thinking what I would say to the parents. They would obviously realise that I hadn't left for work so I would have to tell them. I had no choice. I was more confident telling Mum than Dad. I knew Mum would be angry but I feared Dad would actually flip. Mum came upstairs and I told her what I was going to do. Not like last time, where I just did it, and left the rents to find out for themselves. However, the reaction was not good.
"We're back here again aren't we. What is wrong with you, Thomas?!"
When she gets angry, she calls me by my proper name. Thomas. She went more mad than I had expected but I kept calm and fought my corner and kept my own. Dad got involved and strangely, he understood where I was coming from, but urged me to not just give in straight away like I was planning to. I explained to him what I had explained to Mum.
- The manager has rejected my sickness and my notice a couple of weeks ago.
- I am working with an epileptic egid who endangers me beyond reason.
- I'm fed up with working the stupid hours. It's generally killing me.
After a bit more of a discussion, we made a compromise and agreed we would do it properly. I would type out a letter of notice and give it to Chris when I turned up to work that evening. And I would turn up. I did.
Except Chris wasn't there. It was the Goddess of All Evil. Chris had finished at 8pm apparently, so I left it in his tray for him to find when he comes in at 2pm today. I have officially handed in my notice and my last working day will be Sunday 16th January 2011. Mum still isn't happy about it, claiming I will be a layabout doing nothing, and I suppose she's right. But it's better that than my safety being at risk. She said I should take The Wall case to, "higher authorities", but surprisingly, Dad jumped to my defence stating it would all end up in the hands of the store manager, (Bastard Chris), in the end anyway. My decision was made. No more BP.
Ironically, The Wall was off sick and will be all weekend so I was working with a couple of others who were a bit more of a laugh and the chance of them having an epileptic fit were a lot smaller! I feel a bit of a proper illness coming on though...
Ciao x
Friday 17 December 2010
The Worst Times Of All Time
It's times like this that I wish I either was a) at school, b) at university or c) had a normal day job because it's times like this that I feel incredibly disheartened at the fact that every single person I know has come back from one of the 3 above options, and I cannot join them in their festivities. It's times like this then, where I feel so incredibly down..
In the past, it has sort of balanced itself out. Ok, I have to work weekend nights, but I do get the luxury of 4 "weekdays" off when everyone else is working their 9 to 5's or working incredibly long days to get assignments done whereas I have the luxury of doing whatever I like. It's different this time though. EVERYONE is back for 3 weeks. I have to carry on working the same old schedule and the days that the important days fall on, are all days, (or nights), I happen to be working. My festive holidays are at an end now and I am back to working horrible hours on what should be incredible days. I will hear insane stories, ridiculous stories, downright funny stories of nights out and events in which I know I will be no part of. I am so lonely.
It all starts tonight. Back to working with The Wall. The frustration of it all is nearly enough to make me sod work and just not turn up. So I can be finally free and most of all, be able to take part in Christmas.
"When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all".
Ok, we've had the snow, but I couldn't be less festive if I was literally Scrooge. I've been ill all day, just lying here trying to keep warm, but I haven't necessarily felt very down. I have felt a bit ... reflective, but now, after hearing that everyone is back and around me, I have no choice but to let them enjoy themselves while I waste away doing the same old rubbish, wasting away. I haven't been so down since the Dark Days, and what's more there is nothing I can do about it unless I do exactly the same things I did then.
I could just not turn up to work yes, but that would leave me jobless and while it might be a good decision for Christmas time, while I have money, once I run out, and people go back to their usual lives, I know I will end up being down in the dumps. Even if I could use the excuse that The Wall has become too much to handle, a reason which I think the parents may well understand, a few months down the line, we will end up being where we were. And all of my progress in trying to get into a better relationship with them will all go down the pan.
Do I care about that? I'm not sure to be honest.
For once, I need to look to the long-term, even if it means intolerable suffering for the short-term. Even friends who I have just told, seem silent in giving their answers. They know that they are the ones that will enjoy a merry Christmas. And they know I can't.
People are home tonight, and are no doubt planning some sort of night out, in my absence. There is a Christmas party tomorrow, in which I can only attend the first hour or so before I have to go. They will enjoy the consuing hours, in my absence. Next Friday, Christmas Eve, is usually a night out that people do and this year they will be enjoying themselves, in my absence. Christmas Day is something that my family will be enjoying and celebrating mostly, in my absence. Likewise with Boxing Day. New Year's Eve speaks for itself, everyone will be bringing in the new year, while I waste away, absent. Sometimes I do just feel absent.
Oh, I have the 27-30th December off, and great. But what's the point of that if no one is going to be around? They are the days that usually nothing happen, and that's the story of my festive season. When I'm around, no one else is. And when I am trapped at work, everyone comes out to have fun. Although it's obviously not their fault, I do feel like I haven't a friend in the world at the moment.
Do you understand?
No, of course you don't. You have a Christmas to celebrate.
In the past, it has sort of balanced itself out. Ok, I have to work weekend nights, but I do get the luxury of 4 "weekdays" off when everyone else is working their 9 to 5's or working incredibly long days to get assignments done whereas I have the luxury of doing whatever I like. It's different this time though. EVERYONE is back for 3 weeks. I have to carry on working the same old schedule and the days that the important days fall on, are all days, (or nights), I happen to be working. My festive holidays are at an end now and I am back to working horrible hours on what should be incredible days. I will hear insane stories, ridiculous stories, downright funny stories of nights out and events in which I know I will be no part of. I am so lonely.
It all starts tonight. Back to working with The Wall. The frustration of it all is nearly enough to make me sod work and just not turn up. So I can be finally free and most of all, be able to take part in Christmas.
"When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all".
Ok, we've had the snow, but I couldn't be less festive if I was literally Scrooge. I've been ill all day, just lying here trying to keep warm, but I haven't necessarily felt very down. I have felt a bit ... reflective, but now, after hearing that everyone is back and around me, I have no choice but to let them enjoy themselves while I waste away doing the same old rubbish, wasting away. I haven't been so down since the Dark Days, and what's more there is nothing I can do about it unless I do exactly the same things I did then.
I could just not turn up to work yes, but that would leave me jobless and while it might be a good decision for Christmas time, while I have money, once I run out, and people go back to their usual lives, I know I will end up being down in the dumps. Even if I could use the excuse that The Wall has become too much to handle, a reason which I think the parents may well understand, a few months down the line, we will end up being where we were. And all of my progress in trying to get into a better relationship with them will all go down the pan.
Do I care about that? I'm not sure to be honest.
For once, I need to look to the long-term, even if it means intolerable suffering for the short-term. Even friends who I have just told, seem silent in giving their answers. They know that they are the ones that will enjoy a merry Christmas. And they know I can't.
People are home tonight, and are no doubt planning some sort of night out, in my absence. There is a Christmas party tomorrow, in which I can only attend the first hour or so before I have to go. They will enjoy the consuing hours, in my absence. Next Friday, Christmas Eve, is usually a night out that people do and this year they will be enjoying themselves, in my absence. Christmas Day is something that my family will be enjoying and celebrating mostly, in my absence. Likewise with Boxing Day. New Year's Eve speaks for itself, everyone will be bringing in the new year, while I waste away, absent. Sometimes I do just feel absent.
Oh, I have the 27-30th December off, and great. But what's the point of that if no one is going to be around? They are the days that usually nothing happen, and that's the story of my festive season. When I'm around, no one else is. And when I am trapped at work, everyone comes out to have fun. Although it's obviously not their fault, I do feel like I haven't a friend in the world at the moment.
Do you understand?
No, of course you don't. You have a Christmas to celebrate.
Thursday 16 December 2010
Father Mitten - The Curry Virgin
I feel the relationship between me and my parents is getting marginally better. I am talking to them more about things. Anything from work to the old university application to their work and not their university application, but other things also! You see, it is all part of my brand new master plan to talk to them more and work slowly towards being confident enough to tell them the big news. Who knows, it might work.
To continue this plan, I offered to take Father Mitten out to Chaudhury's, (the spelling of which is not known by anyone), seeing as Mother Mitten was at her work Crimbo Do, the opportunity was there. Father Mitten calls a curry, "a ruby", which proves that he is a complete curry virgin. He's only ever had 1, where he said he had "some chicken with a strange lemon texture". I might just have to guide him through this one!
His taste in Indian food is very similar to mine. He doesn't like it very spicy at all, just like me, who thinks a Massala is "quite hot indeed", but instead of going for something mild, he went for a Lamb Dhansak, which is described as "fairly hot" on the menu.
"It says that, but I bet it isn't that hot really."
Well summarised Father Mitten and I'm glad to say he got it wrong! Being a classic man, he acted as if he was enjoying it, while I sat there with my mildly spicy Lamb Tikka Masalla and watched his face turn steadily purple. We had a good chat though, about his work and my university application and about what I wanted to do with the degree once I have got it, and all sorts. About a year ago, these questions wouldn't get answered, as I didn't really want to confide in my parents about these sorts of things. Tonight, and recently, though, have been different. I'm certainly getting there and it's all positive. Which is good.
I'm feeling a bit rough today aswell, after yesterdays strange pattern of sleeping, I am back to the level, "All Over The Shop", although it's now 9:55pm and I'm very tired. My 2nd nights voyage to Luton to watch the cricket has been called off because of it, and despite waking up at 2pm, I cannot wait to get back to sleep!
Now though, I'm gonna go spend more time with The Curry Virgin and watch the cricket highlights with him.
Can someone answer me this aswell. Is Sikhism the same as Christianity? Apparently, it is. I'm not so sure... I'll explain in the next post, if I remember!
Cya x
To continue this plan, I offered to take Father Mitten out to Chaudhury's, (the spelling of which is not known by anyone), seeing as Mother Mitten was at her work Crimbo Do, the opportunity was there. Father Mitten calls a curry, "a ruby", which proves that he is a complete curry virgin. He's only ever had 1, where he said he had "some chicken with a strange lemon texture". I might just have to guide him through this one!
His taste in Indian food is very similar to mine. He doesn't like it very spicy at all, just like me, who thinks a Massala is "quite hot indeed", but instead of going for something mild, he went for a Lamb Dhansak, which is described as "fairly hot" on the menu.
"It says that, but I bet it isn't that hot really."
Well summarised Father Mitten and I'm glad to say he got it wrong! Being a classic man, he acted as if he was enjoying it, while I sat there with my mildly spicy Lamb Tikka Masalla and watched his face turn steadily purple. We had a good chat though, about his work and my university application and about what I wanted to do with the degree once I have got it, and all sorts. About a year ago, these questions wouldn't get answered, as I didn't really want to confide in my parents about these sorts of things. Tonight, and recently, though, have been different. I'm certainly getting there and it's all positive. Which is good.
I'm feeling a bit rough today aswell, after yesterdays strange pattern of sleeping, I am back to the level, "All Over The Shop", although it's now 9:55pm and I'm very tired. My 2nd nights voyage to Luton to watch the cricket has been called off because of it, and despite waking up at 2pm, I cannot wait to get back to sleep!
Now though, I'm gonna go spend more time with The Curry Virgin and watch the cricket highlights with him.
Can someone answer me this aswell. Is Sikhism the same as Christianity? Apparently, it is. I'm not so sure... I'll explain in the next post, if I remember!
Cya x
Wednesday 15 December 2010
I'm No Lance Armstrong
"Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever."
So true, I suppose, yet I clearly haven't learnt that lesson in the past few years. It's a quote from said man in title, and tonight, I felt pain alright. I went to play 5-a-side football for the first time in about a year.
Now, a few things here. 1) I don't really exercise anymore. Obviously, it's not cricket season, but football season, where I am a goalkeeper and don't do that much running. And 2) My refereeing is constricted to once a fortnight at most, so I don't do much exercise at all. Unless you count work, but that doesn't count!
I turned up, quite excited about playing for the first time but fairly wary of how long I would last physically! It turned out not very long... 20 minutes or so, and I started to feel a few things that I tend to feel when I start to get tired. My vision goes a bit blurred and I get an awkward yet very painful feeling in my left shoulder. Almost like cramp, I'm not sure what it is. I had forgotten about these pains before I started, but when they came, I remembered them alright! I didn't put in 100% effort, because the last time I did that, the consequences were not fantastic.
It was at winter cricket training back in... 2008 I think. We were at the local sports centre and being put through our paces by the coaches who were needlessly making us work uber-hard for the level of cricket we play. A whole hour of the session was spent solely on fitness, and the head coach, (who is an absolute moron), didn't even let us stop for a brief rest or a drink. After 45 minutes of this or so, I started to feel very unwell, and halfway through an exercise designed to, "strengthen your core", I collapsed. Apparently, the coaches just thought I was lying down, giving up, but when I didn't move, they became concerned.
I came round a whole 15 minutes later, perched up in a chair in the corner with paramedics surrounding me and looking at me. I couldn't remember what had happened and before I knew it I was in hospital. I spent a good 4-5 hours there, and was banned from Father Mitten in playing in the next days football match, all because the coaches had worked us too hard. I also heard that a few others felt unwell after the over-exertive session, but I was the only one who required an ambulance. I am still ripped apart for it these days!
So, at 5-a-side, even 2 years on, I am still incredibly wary of ending up in the same state. I know I am unfit, after not a lot of exercise and spending the last 6 months pretty much comfort eating, so I just about got through without making a fool of myself! Mr. T just came into my head...
The one thing that has improved about me though IS my core strength. If I mentioned that to a Bedford CC coach, they would say, "that exercise worked then even if you did collapse!" I do feel stronger and more ... "bulked out", than I did last year. Some of the people we played with tonight, were like me last year, not overly strong and I seemed to be stronger than some of them. I'm not sure, but maybe that will stand me in good stead, especially as the cricket season draws nearer. I can't wait to be honest with you!
Talking of cricket, the 3rd Ashes test starts tonight, and I have been invited by CC to go round to his and watch! I'm looking forward to it! So much so that I put a tenner on another England innings victory! At 16/1, it was too good to turn down!!
So, I'll leave you be. I'm certainly no Lance Armstrong, physically or mentally, but I'm getting there. Maybe 1% of the way there..!
Ciao x
So true, I suppose, yet I clearly haven't learnt that lesson in the past few years. It's a quote from said man in title, and tonight, I felt pain alright. I went to play 5-a-side football for the first time in about a year.
Now, a few things here. 1) I don't really exercise anymore. Obviously, it's not cricket season, but football season, where I am a goalkeeper and don't do that much running. And 2) My refereeing is constricted to once a fortnight at most, so I don't do much exercise at all. Unless you count work, but that doesn't count!
I turned up, quite excited about playing for the first time but fairly wary of how long I would last physically! It turned out not very long... 20 minutes or so, and I started to feel a few things that I tend to feel when I start to get tired. My vision goes a bit blurred and I get an awkward yet very painful feeling in my left shoulder. Almost like cramp, I'm not sure what it is. I had forgotten about these pains before I started, but when they came, I remembered them alright! I didn't put in 100% effort, because the last time I did that, the consequences were not fantastic.
It was at winter cricket training back in... 2008 I think. We were at the local sports centre and being put through our paces by the coaches who were needlessly making us work uber-hard for the level of cricket we play. A whole hour of the session was spent solely on fitness, and the head coach, (who is an absolute moron), didn't even let us stop for a brief rest or a drink. After 45 minutes of this or so, I started to feel very unwell, and halfway through an exercise designed to, "strengthen your core", I collapsed. Apparently, the coaches just thought I was lying down, giving up, but when I didn't move, they became concerned.
I came round a whole 15 minutes later, perched up in a chair in the corner with paramedics surrounding me and looking at me. I couldn't remember what had happened and before I knew it I was in hospital. I spent a good 4-5 hours there, and was banned from Father Mitten in playing in the next days football match, all because the coaches had worked us too hard. I also heard that a few others felt unwell after the over-exertive session, but I was the only one who required an ambulance. I am still ripped apart for it these days!
So, at 5-a-side, even 2 years on, I am still incredibly wary of ending up in the same state. I know I am unfit, after not a lot of exercise and spending the last 6 months pretty much comfort eating, so I just about got through without making a fool of myself! Mr. T just came into my head...
The one thing that has improved about me though IS my core strength. If I mentioned that to a Bedford CC coach, they would say, "that exercise worked then even if you did collapse!" I do feel stronger and more ... "bulked out", than I did last year. Some of the people we played with tonight, were like me last year, not overly strong and I seemed to be stronger than some of them. I'm not sure, but maybe that will stand me in good stead, especially as the cricket season draws nearer. I can't wait to be honest with you!
Talking of cricket, the 3rd Ashes test starts tonight, and I have been invited by CC to go round to his and watch! I'm looking forward to it! So much so that I put a tenner on another England innings victory! At 16/1, it was too good to turn down!!
So, I'll leave you be. I'm certainly no Lance Armstrong, physically or mentally, but I'm getting there. Maybe 1% of the way there..!
Ciao x
Tuesday 14 December 2010
Reminiscing and Problems
Today has been a good day. After getting in last night at about half 1, I was wide awake at 6.30am for some reason I cannot fathom, and after seeing the inevitable cancellation of my planned events for the day, I created a Plan B and went out to lunch and then to the cinema with CC. My first ever 3D film none the less!
Yep, I was expecting a cancellation, which duly arrived at about 11am, so I quickly made a backup plan and was on the road to Luton, (a.k.a Hell), at around 12.30. I got lost on the new roads, but found my way to Dunstable and kicked off the afternoon in great fashion, with a thought-provoking talk with CC about, things.
It's interesting the last 2 days socialising with people who are a fair bit older than me. Cool Will, 27, and CC, 29 are both going through a fair few problems at the moment and although Will told me everything in his heart because the drink told him to, CC's situation is one that he trusts me with, where I can trust him with any of my problems. Maybe 1 of 3 people I can truly talk to, is Chris. Will's situation, although bad, are more in quantity, but CC's problem is one very, very big one. I had a good night with Will last night, as you may have been able to tell, and had a good afternoon with CC, capped off by some good news for him!
We decided to go out for lunch, in St.Albans for some reason, and walked around trying to find a suitable place. St. Albans is a very posh place, almost like a mini Cambridge and all the places were either expensive cafes or expensive Restaurants. We tried some seafood bar first, but it was "full" apparently. Come to think of it, maybe there were invisible people sitting at those empty tables? So we moved on and eventually found a cosy little place called 'The Snug', which sold a vast array of food and a frankly strange selection of drinks. Chris ordered a Hot Chocolate with some sort of alcohol at the bottom, which tasted strange and when he had finished that, we both ordered a Knob and Coke.
I'm not joking. Knob Creek and Coke. It's a type of whisky, but was incredibly strong. So after that, I had an orange juice and enjoyed my buffalo burger in peace! Posh!
After Chris had very kindly paid for most of the bill, (thank God I get paid tomorrow!), we moved on to the cinema where we saw Megamind in 3D! It was Ok, but I was starting to get incredibly tired and couldn't really enjoy it as much as I felt I could. I ended up driving home at 6.20pm, nearly falling asleep on the motorway, after not a lot of sleep at all the last few days, but I am glad I have made the most of today.
Full speed ahead!
Bye x
Yep, I was expecting a cancellation, which duly arrived at about 11am, so I quickly made a backup plan and was on the road to Luton, (a.k.a Hell), at around 12.30. I got lost on the new roads, but found my way to Dunstable and kicked off the afternoon in great fashion, with a thought-provoking talk with CC about, things.
It's interesting the last 2 days socialising with people who are a fair bit older than me. Cool Will, 27, and CC, 29 are both going through a fair few problems at the moment and although Will told me everything in his heart because the drink told him to, CC's situation is one that he trusts me with, where I can trust him with any of my problems. Maybe 1 of 3 people I can truly talk to, is Chris. Will's situation, although bad, are more in quantity, but CC's problem is one very, very big one. I had a good night with Will last night, as you may have been able to tell, and had a good afternoon with CC, capped off by some good news for him!
We decided to go out for lunch, in St.Albans for some reason, and walked around trying to find a suitable place. St. Albans is a very posh place, almost like a mini Cambridge and all the places were either expensive cafes or expensive Restaurants. We tried some seafood bar first, but it was "full" apparently. Come to think of it, maybe there were invisible people sitting at those empty tables? So we moved on and eventually found a cosy little place called 'The Snug', which sold a vast array of food and a frankly strange selection of drinks. Chris ordered a Hot Chocolate with some sort of alcohol at the bottom, which tasted strange and when he had finished that, we both ordered a Knob and Coke.
I'm not joking. Knob Creek and Coke. It's a type of whisky, but was incredibly strong. So after that, I had an orange juice and enjoyed my buffalo burger in peace! Posh!
After Chris had very kindly paid for most of the bill, (thank God I get paid tomorrow!), we moved on to the cinema where we saw Megamind in 3D! It was Ok, but I was starting to get incredibly tired and couldn't really enjoy it as much as I felt I could. I ended up driving home at 6.20pm, nearly falling asleep on the motorway, after not a lot of sleep at all the last few days, but I am glad I have made the most of today.
Full speed ahead!
Bye x
I Thought I Was The Lightweight!
Yeah, once again, maybe quite dangerous to write a bloggle whilst intoxicated, but its only going to be a short one and why not! Something to read for me tomorrow!
So. A Monday night, probably the one night of the week where you're not expecting it to be packed to the rafters with party people, but surprisingly, seeing as students party whenever, wherever, it was fairly busy! Me, and a colleague from work, (my duty manager none the less), decided to go out for, "a couple of drinks", which turned into a full-blown waster session. It's taking me ages to write this, seeing as I'm having to delete a lot because I can't really see the keyboard.
Yeah, I was quite good tonight. After the last time I got wasted, (yep, the Saturday of Manchester, in which I got very, very, very drunk), I started the cycle again of not drinking too much, but that wasn't the case for my co-drinker! He probably goes out less than me, and had laods! I mean, loads. He kept buying drinks for me, and then when I refused them, drank them himself! I decided for him, that it was time to go and he took about 5 minutes to get out the cab and stumble home. Well, at least I hope he's home!
Still, as for me, I sent a whole host of drunken texts as I tend to do when I'm wasted, in particular to one person. Even though I'm drunk, I will not talk about this person, because I will only regret it. But, it's now 01:22, and seeing as I've only had 5 hours sleep in 38 hours, I suppose I need some sleep.
Jack Daniels will kill me one day!
Cya x
(And yeah, I know I'm STILL a lightweight, but not nearly as bad as my colleague tonight!)
So. A Monday night, probably the one night of the week where you're not expecting it to be packed to the rafters with party people, but surprisingly, seeing as students party whenever, wherever, it was fairly busy! Me, and a colleague from work, (my duty manager none the less), decided to go out for, "a couple of drinks", which turned into a full-blown waster session. It's taking me ages to write this, seeing as I'm having to delete a lot because I can't really see the keyboard.
Yeah, I was quite good tonight. After the last time I got wasted, (yep, the Saturday of Manchester, in which I got very, very, very drunk), I started the cycle again of not drinking too much, but that wasn't the case for my co-drinker! He probably goes out less than me, and had laods! I mean, loads. He kept buying drinks for me, and then when I refused them, drank them himself! I decided for him, that it was time to go and he took about 5 minutes to get out the cab and stumble home. Well, at least I hope he's home!
Still, as for me, I sent a whole host of drunken texts as I tend to do when I'm wasted, in particular to one person. Even though I'm drunk, I will not talk about this person, because I will only regret it. But, it's now 01:22, and seeing as I've only had 5 hours sleep in 38 hours, I suppose I need some sleep.
Jack Daniels will kill me one day!
Cya x
(And yeah, I know I'm STILL a lightweight, but not nearly as bad as my colleague tonight!)
Monday 13 December 2010
Talking To A Politician
After Saturday mornings episode with the Goddess Of All Evil, just now I have just been through Part 2 of the episode, in which disgruntled worker speaks to All-Powerful Store Manager.
My hopes of being more assertive and confident in trying to get my point across failed completely as Chris, (Store Manager with a funny likeness to Harry Hill), didn't even invite me into his office to have a private word, but instead allowed me to follow him round the warehouse trying to make plain my message that the current situation is completely out of order. What I heard in reply though, was nothing. Oh, he talked alright. He talked quite a lot as it happened, but they were just words. Just like The Goddess of All Evil on Saturday, he just skirted round the issue, not saying anything in particular, not saying anything helpful or productive and the whole "meeting", (if you can call it that), was a complete non-event.
It's almost as if they are waiting for something catastrophic to happen before acting upon the whole thing. Waiting for him to have a fit while a robbery happens, or wait for him to decapitate me with a pair of scissors before getting rid of him, and by then, I'd be dead so I wouldn't really care that much! I cannot describe the frustration surrounding it all, although yes, it's obvious I have tried my level best to do so in the past 6 months. I said, although whether he heard it or not is another matter, that I would wait another month to hear of any developments, (which won't come), and if nothing happens, then I'm out of there.
I can't wait for something horrible to happen before action is taken. Prevention ahead of cure.
Anyway, on to more positive events before I explode in an epiphony of rage, (I like that), I recieved a letter this morning from the University of Bath, offering me an interview for the specific course I wanted, which is fantastic. The only down side is that it is at 11am on a Friday morning, after a night of work, so I might need to book that night off, to be fully prepared! Yesterday's football, after travelling half way to Flitwick was called off due to another frozen pitch, surprise surprise, and I have 4 days off in which I hope to maximise to it's fullest potential!
I'm even going out tonight for a drink or 9 with a few people from work. I've never been out on a Monday night before. It might be so bad, that'll it end up good. Still, it's with the good people of work, so I look forward to it massively! Tuesday's events won't happen, so no point in even going there, Wednesday, I'm playing 5-a-side in the evening, (I think), before the 1st day of the 3rd Ashes Test, and Thursday I am refereeing in the evening before the 2nd day of the cricket!
Now I've written it down, I'm glad with the week's agenda. Shame I've got to run into The Wall come the weekend again though...
I hope your week is as good as mine, and you don't have to speak to any politicians, (or managers). They're all b******s really!
Ciao x
P.S. By the way, it's this blog's 1st anniversary today! 13/12/2009 was my first ever blog post, so feel free to sing a chorus of 'Happy Birthday'. I'm sure the words on here will appreciate your kindness!
My hopes of being more assertive and confident in trying to get my point across failed completely as Chris, (Store Manager with a funny likeness to Harry Hill), didn't even invite me into his office to have a private word, but instead allowed me to follow him round the warehouse trying to make plain my message that the current situation is completely out of order. What I heard in reply though, was nothing. Oh, he talked alright. He talked quite a lot as it happened, but they were just words. Just like The Goddess of All Evil on Saturday, he just skirted round the issue, not saying anything in particular, not saying anything helpful or productive and the whole "meeting", (if you can call it that), was a complete non-event.
It's almost as if they are waiting for something catastrophic to happen before acting upon the whole thing. Waiting for him to have a fit while a robbery happens, or wait for him to decapitate me with a pair of scissors before getting rid of him, and by then, I'd be dead so I wouldn't really care that much! I cannot describe the frustration surrounding it all, although yes, it's obvious I have tried my level best to do so in the past 6 months. I said, although whether he heard it or not is another matter, that I would wait another month to hear of any developments, (which won't come), and if nothing happens, then I'm out of there.
I can't wait for something horrible to happen before action is taken. Prevention ahead of cure.
Anyway, on to more positive events before I explode in an epiphony of rage, (I like that), I recieved a letter this morning from the University of Bath, offering me an interview for the specific course I wanted, which is fantastic. The only down side is that it is at 11am on a Friday morning, after a night of work, so I might need to book that night off, to be fully prepared! Yesterday's football, after travelling half way to Flitwick was called off due to another frozen pitch, surprise surprise, and I have 4 days off in which I hope to maximise to it's fullest potential!
I'm even going out tonight for a drink or 9 with a few people from work. I've never been out on a Monday night before. It might be so bad, that'll it end up good. Still, it's with the good people of work, so I look forward to it massively! Tuesday's events won't happen, so no point in even going there, Wednesday, I'm playing 5-a-side in the evening, (I think), before the 1st day of the 3rd Ashes Test, and Thursday I am refereeing in the evening before the 2nd day of the cricket!
Now I've written it down, I'm glad with the week's agenda. Shame I've got to run into The Wall come the weekend again though...
I hope your week is as good as mine, and you don't have to speak to any politicians, (or managers). They're all b******s really!
Ciao x
P.S. By the way, it's this blog's 1st anniversary today! 13/12/2009 was my first ever blog post, so feel free to sing a chorus of 'Happy Birthday'. I'm sure the words on here will appreciate your kindness!
Saturday 11 December 2010
Patience Exhausted
Tonight was difficult. Very difficult. Incredibly busy, lots of drunk people, lots of customers and custom, it was immensely tough. I still feel a teensy bit rough and after a long day, in which I only got three-and-a-half hours sleep, I knew it was going to be hard.
It was just us two tonight. No third party to help us do the jobs that had famously mounted up in the past couple of weeks. There was no way I could do all of them, even the Goddess of All Evil acknowledged that this morning, which was thankful to hear. However, my mind was on a different matter and I'm afraid the end result wasn't one I was hoping for.
You see, I have muddled with the idea of handing in my notice for this job. Especially after last week's fiascos with The Wall, I felt my patience had exhausted to the absolute limit. The bottom. End. Tonight, he was on the edge of fitting all night long, which made things incredibly difficult, more so than they should of been. I was practically working alone, and although he didn't have a full blown fit in the end, he may aswell have done. However, as for the past few weeks, I have tried to make up the courage to talk to one of the managers, telling them of my intentions to hand in my notice. I don't, and carry on to the next day as if nothing has happened.
Tonight?
Tonight, all night, I was creating the perfect leaving speech. I had the perfect conversation in my mind:
"Well, sorry love, but I'm walking out, I've had enough of this s***!"
"You can't do that..."
"Oh, just you watch me!"
I've got to admit, that last line is a dream of mine. If I get to say that line in a similar situation in my life, without losing anything, I will die a happy man!
I wouldn't bother with the handing in of a notice, I would just leave and never come back. Almost like I did with my old job. Just give up and be cowardly, not facing up to the consequences. Sounds just like me. I was so frustrated at the lack of progress being shown in this whole case. This frustration was summed up perfectly, when I eventually decided on a more sensible option.
After I had completed the 1st instalment of the weekend papers, not so bad this morning, I decided I had to do something. I asked The Goddess of All Evil for a quick word, in which she obliged, and we had a chat about the situation. I said I really wasn't happy with the expectation of coming into work and expecting him to be ill.
All I heard was words though.
"I understand what you're going through in these nights"
"I can see what it must be like when he starts"
"I know it must be a huge problem".
They're all just words. How can she understand what happens, when she's never there? She wouldn't let me speak, until I finally managed to get in the phrase, "This is why I want to hand in my notice", but she dismissed it, asking me not to give up and to come in on Monday and speak to the returning Store Manager about the situation. Tonight then, after thinking I may well be free of it all, I feel no progress has been made at all.
I think I needed to be more assertive in the conversation. I backed down too easily and I must make sure I am more confident on Monday when I see the Store Manager about it. However, I am happy I didn't make a scene and walk out with no intention of returning. I was told, rather thankfully, from The Wall, that I may lose all of my month's pay if I left without notice. He has a point I suppose, for once! I get paid on Wednesday, so if nothing comes of the meeting on Monday, then I will be an idiot and pack up and leave, without notice, but won't lose any money!
Talking of losing money, I won £12.50 on the EuroMillions but I put my ticket into the machine when the machine wasn't on, so it swallowed it! Awww!
So, tonight is going to be much the same. 2 people, more drunk people, same evil manager talking rubbish in the morning. I don't even get a Christmas this year...
Cya x
It was just us two tonight. No third party to help us do the jobs that had famously mounted up in the past couple of weeks. There was no way I could do all of them, even the Goddess of All Evil acknowledged that this morning, which was thankful to hear. However, my mind was on a different matter and I'm afraid the end result wasn't one I was hoping for.
You see, I have muddled with the idea of handing in my notice for this job. Especially after last week's fiascos with The Wall, I felt my patience had exhausted to the absolute limit. The bottom. End. Tonight, he was on the edge of fitting all night long, which made things incredibly difficult, more so than they should of been. I was practically working alone, and although he didn't have a full blown fit in the end, he may aswell have done. However, as for the past few weeks, I have tried to make up the courage to talk to one of the managers, telling them of my intentions to hand in my notice. I don't, and carry on to the next day as if nothing has happened.
Tonight?
Tonight, all night, I was creating the perfect leaving speech. I had the perfect conversation in my mind:
"Well, sorry love, but I'm walking out, I've had enough of this s***!"
"You can't do that..."
"Oh, just you watch me!"
I've got to admit, that last line is a dream of mine. If I get to say that line in a similar situation in my life, without losing anything, I will die a happy man!
I wouldn't bother with the handing in of a notice, I would just leave and never come back. Almost like I did with my old job. Just give up and be cowardly, not facing up to the consequences. Sounds just like me. I was so frustrated at the lack of progress being shown in this whole case. This frustration was summed up perfectly, when I eventually decided on a more sensible option.
After I had completed the 1st instalment of the weekend papers, not so bad this morning, I decided I had to do something. I asked The Goddess of All Evil for a quick word, in which she obliged, and we had a chat about the situation. I said I really wasn't happy with the expectation of coming into work and expecting him to be ill.
All I heard was words though.
"I understand what you're going through in these nights"
"I can see what it must be like when he starts"
"I know it must be a huge problem".
They're all just words. How can she understand what happens, when she's never there? She wouldn't let me speak, until I finally managed to get in the phrase, "This is why I want to hand in my notice", but she dismissed it, asking me not to give up and to come in on Monday and speak to the returning Store Manager about the situation. Tonight then, after thinking I may well be free of it all, I feel no progress has been made at all.
I think I needed to be more assertive in the conversation. I backed down too easily and I must make sure I am more confident on Monday when I see the Store Manager about it. However, I am happy I didn't make a scene and walk out with no intention of returning. I was told, rather thankfully, from The Wall, that I may lose all of my month's pay if I left without notice. He has a point I suppose, for once! I get paid on Wednesday, so if nothing comes of the meeting on Monday, then I will be an idiot and pack up and leave, without notice, but won't lose any money!
Talking of losing money, I won £12.50 on the EuroMillions but I put my ticket into the machine when the machine wasn't on, so it swallowed it! Awww!
So, tonight is going to be much the same. 2 people, more drunk people, same evil manager talking rubbish in the morning. I don't even get a Christmas this year...
Cya x
Friday 10 December 2010
Meeting The Old Team
I feel horrible this morning. A different sort of horrible than I have done the past few weeks, (although those feelings are still there), but I have the most vicious headache imaginable. I'm actually finding it difficult to see this screen because of it, which poses the question of why I am even on my laptop in the first place..
Still, even if it won't be a detailed one, I haven't blogged in a couple of days so, why not. The week so far has been of the 'distinctly average' variety with a few questions answered in my head replaced with so many more questions. If all the answers of life were answered, life would be perfect. It isn't.
I went for a Dominos on Wednesday. Just a garlic pizza bread, that incidentally burnt the top of my mouth. If God was real, why would he allow such a thing? Anyway, I was waiting when an Asian man in a suit stepped in and started looking at the menu. He didn't see me straight away, but I knew exactly who he was, and made for the door instantly. I didn't move fast enough though, and a large shout of, "Tom! How are you my friend?" .... Oh, crap.
Yep, it was my ex-boss. Goes by the name of Moby, he was my old boss back in the days when I was a lettings agent, (about a year ago now... Time goes quickly!), and it's safe to say I don't like him too much. He's probably 3rd on my list of the people I hate, and I left on incredibly bad terms with him. However, despite this, we shook hands, (not that I wanted to), and he started asking questions. "How's your Mum?", in which I replied, "Yeah, not so bad thanks, how's business?" The conversation continued and he then asked what I was doing with myself these days. Yep, I lied. I couldn't tell this man I was working in a petrol garage, what would he think of me? To be honest, I'm not too certain I care too much, but this man seems incredibly powerful. I said I was working with my Dad, whilst completing my university application, (which is half true!) By this point, my order was ready and I shook hands with him again and made to leave. However, he was going out the door aswell and beckoned me in to see everyone else.
Oh great. Now I get to meet the moron who stole my original job and the perfectionist Senior Negotiator. They all asked me the same questions until I told them I had to go, which, to be fair, I did, because I'd have ended up with a parking ticket! It wasn't the best of experiences..
Neither was tonight. I went to work with a horrible headache, much like I do now. Come to think of it, I've just started to feel a bit sick and dizzy. I think I may be coming down with something... Yeah, I'd better get some sleep..
Ciao x
Still, even if it won't be a detailed one, I haven't blogged in a couple of days so, why not. The week so far has been of the 'distinctly average' variety with a few questions answered in my head replaced with so many more questions. If all the answers of life were answered, life would be perfect. It isn't.
I went for a Dominos on Wednesday. Just a garlic pizza bread, that incidentally burnt the top of my mouth. If God was real, why would he allow such a thing? Anyway, I was waiting when an Asian man in a suit stepped in and started looking at the menu. He didn't see me straight away, but I knew exactly who he was, and made for the door instantly. I didn't move fast enough though, and a large shout of, "Tom! How are you my friend?" .... Oh, crap.
Yep, it was my ex-boss. Goes by the name of Moby, he was my old boss back in the days when I was a lettings agent, (about a year ago now... Time goes quickly!), and it's safe to say I don't like him too much. He's probably 3rd on my list of the people I hate, and I left on incredibly bad terms with him. However, despite this, we shook hands, (not that I wanted to), and he started asking questions. "How's your Mum?", in which I replied, "Yeah, not so bad thanks, how's business?" The conversation continued and he then asked what I was doing with myself these days. Yep, I lied. I couldn't tell this man I was working in a petrol garage, what would he think of me? To be honest, I'm not too certain I care too much, but this man seems incredibly powerful. I said I was working with my Dad, whilst completing my university application, (which is half true!) By this point, my order was ready and I shook hands with him again and made to leave. However, he was going out the door aswell and beckoned me in to see everyone else.
Oh great. Now I get to meet the moron who stole my original job and the perfectionist Senior Negotiator. They all asked me the same questions until I told them I had to go, which, to be fair, I did, because I'd have ended up with a parking ticket! It wasn't the best of experiences..
Neither was tonight. I went to work with a horrible headache, much like I do now. Come to think of it, I've just started to feel a bit sick and dizzy. I think I may be coming down with something... Yeah, I'd better get some sleep..
Ciao x
Wednesday 8 December 2010
How Long Can You Stay Awake For?
Once again, it seems I have lost a bit of inspiration for this blog. Complaining day in and day out about how bad things have been recently, but it's tough to think or write positively when your head is all screwed up.
Yesterday however, was a good day. Sort of. You see, after staying up all night on Monday night, my plan was to go to sleep at about midday yesterday and stick with the all-nighters until I was back at work tonight, but I got a text from Legend Alex at 7 in the morning. If someone had texted me at that time of the morning last year, they would not have got a reply until the afternoon, but seeing as it was my evening, I read it.
"Need someone desperately 2pm-8pm tonight if you can help".
Hmm. I do enjoy working days more than I do nights and I would be working with people I liked. Will and Grace, (no... not THAT Will and Grace), so I agreed and went to sleep at 7am, ready to awake at 1pm-ish for work. I said I could only work till 6pm aswell, due to... plans. But the sleep... it didn't really happen. I couldn't sleep at all, and when I finally gave up at around 10am, I knew, after already being awake for 12 hours, that I may well end up being famously tired.
Work, in the end, was quite cool. We had a laugh and stood around doing nothing in particular as the day staff always do, (even though they somehow don't have enough time to do everything?), and 6pm came around fairly quickly and I was going home, to execute my plans.
Plans, that I have banned from this blog. Ask, if you can be bothered.
Still. After these special plans, I was clinically dead. 10pm and I was ready to crash out, but I knew I had work tonight, so would need to stay awake for as long as possible. 20 minutes I managed, and gave up at 10.20.
15 hours later, yep, 15 HOURS later, I awoke and went to town not long after. Now, it's 5:40 and basically I still feel tired. I really need to stop sleeping for a stupid amount of hours, because it does nothing but make you feel lethargic. And so, the start of my normal working week starts tonight and I cannot wait for Monday morning already!
I need plans.
Ciao x
Yesterday however, was a good day. Sort of. You see, after staying up all night on Monday night, my plan was to go to sleep at about midday yesterday and stick with the all-nighters until I was back at work tonight, but I got a text from Legend Alex at 7 in the morning. If someone had texted me at that time of the morning last year, they would not have got a reply until the afternoon, but seeing as it was my evening, I read it.
"Need someone desperately 2pm-8pm tonight if you can help".
Hmm. I do enjoy working days more than I do nights and I would be working with people I liked. Will and Grace, (no... not THAT Will and Grace), so I agreed and went to sleep at 7am, ready to awake at 1pm-ish for work. I said I could only work till 6pm aswell, due to... plans. But the sleep... it didn't really happen. I couldn't sleep at all, and when I finally gave up at around 10am, I knew, after already being awake for 12 hours, that I may well end up being famously tired.
Work, in the end, was quite cool. We had a laugh and stood around doing nothing in particular as the day staff always do, (even though they somehow don't have enough time to do everything?), and 6pm came around fairly quickly and I was going home, to execute my plans.
Plans, that I have banned from this blog. Ask, if you can be bothered.
Still. After these special plans, I was clinically dead. 10pm and I was ready to crash out, but I knew I had work tonight, so would need to stay awake for as long as possible. 20 minutes I managed, and gave up at 10.20.
15 hours later, yep, 15 HOURS later, I awoke and went to town not long after. Now, it's 5:40 and basically I still feel tired. I really need to stop sleeping for a stupid amount of hours, because it does nothing but make you feel lethargic. And so, the start of my normal working week starts tonight and I cannot wait for Monday morning already!
I need plans.
Ciao x
Tuesday 7 December 2010
Tesco's At 3.30am
I wasn't at work tonight! Yaay! It feels like I've spent the last 6 weeks solidly at work, despite not being so, and tonight, I was at a loss at what to do. I had a plan of what to do, but it didn't really materialise.
Yesterday morning, I went to sleep at 10am with the alarm set for 3.30pm. 5 and a half hours, I'll be tired when I wake up but I WILL have the will power to haul myself out of bed to have a day of normal hours. I will!
I didn't. The alarm went off, on the dot, at 3.30pm, and there was me, rather warm and cosy in my bed, thinking another hour won't do me no harm. I stretched over and set the alarm for 4.30. Good. I went back to sleep and what felt like 2 minutes later, the ridiculously loud sound of the alarm went off again. I was as warm and cosy as I was at 3.30, so I leaned over again and set if for 6.30. Ok, I will definitely get up then!
I didn't. In fact, when the alarm went off for the 3rd time, I didn't bother setting it again and went back to sleep. What happened, was the complete opposite of what I wanted, and I woke up at 11pm. Wow. I have a long night ahead of me. Or maybe not. Because, for the first time this Winter, I had some live cricket to watch! Now, I don't have Sky, so the illegal ways of the internet helped me watch a fairly good streaming of the final day of the 2nd Ashes Test. Australia on 238-4, it would be a close finish and with the promise of rain, certainly a very interesting finale to a test match England had dominated. But it didn't turn out that way. We took the final 6 wickets in an hour and half and by 1.30am, it was done.
I was happy we had won, but not so happy I was left with another night of sod all. People drifted off to sleep, and by 3.30am, a whole 12 hours after I should of awoken, I decided to go to Tesco's.
It was.... freezing. I had stupidly decided to pull on any old clothes because I couldn't be bothered to look for warm stuff, thinking I was only going to be 10 minutes. Why I chose a t-shirt and jogging bottoms I will never know, but by the time I got back in to my house, I had icicles running from my own ears. Even the member of staff at Tesco's said I was, "brave".
I ended up getting about £8 worth of pure and utter junk. I was going to ask one of the staff members to direct me to the chilled drinks section, but he looked like a rapist, so I decided against it. Only wierd people work at this time of night! ... *Ahem*
Still, I walked out again, shivering, plastic bag full of crap in hand, and found that, after 10 minutes, the windscreen I had waited 20 minutes to defrost, had frozen over again. That's how cold it is out there. I clambered in, after answering a text from my fellow insomniac friend, and drove home, fog lights on, and here we are. Eating a load of crap.
Hmm, I don't feel tired but I am tempted to go to sleep, so I wake up at normal o'clock tomorrow and I may be able to feel the normalness of civilian life for the first time in ages. Oh yeah! That's what I was going to do. See if there are any football matches to go and see tomorrow! That'll decide what time I go to sleep!
Sorry, just talk amongst yourselves for a bit...
Errr, no. There isn't. Man United are playing, but seeing as I don't have Sky, as I mentioned earlier, watching them is impossible.
I have nothing else to say.
Bye x
Yesterday morning, I went to sleep at 10am with the alarm set for 3.30pm. 5 and a half hours, I'll be tired when I wake up but I WILL have the will power to haul myself out of bed to have a day of normal hours. I will!
I didn't. The alarm went off, on the dot, at 3.30pm, and there was me, rather warm and cosy in my bed, thinking another hour won't do me no harm. I stretched over and set the alarm for 4.30. Good. I went back to sleep and what felt like 2 minutes later, the ridiculously loud sound of the alarm went off again. I was as warm and cosy as I was at 3.30, so I leaned over again and set if for 6.30. Ok, I will definitely get up then!
I didn't. In fact, when the alarm went off for the 3rd time, I didn't bother setting it again and went back to sleep. What happened, was the complete opposite of what I wanted, and I woke up at 11pm. Wow. I have a long night ahead of me. Or maybe not. Because, for the first time this Winter, I had some live cricket to watch! Now, I don't have Sky, so the illegal ways of the internet helped me watch a fairly good streaming of the final day of the 2nd Ashes Test. Australia on 238-4, it would be a close finish and with the promise of rain, certainly a very interesting finale to a test match England had dominated. But it didn't turn out that way. We took the final 6 wickets in an hour and half and by 1.30am, it was done.
I was happy we had won, but not so happy I was left with another night of sod all. People drifted off to sleep, and by 3.30am, a whole 12 hours after I should of awoken, I decided to go to Tesco's.
It was.... freezing. I had stupidly decided to pull on any old clothes because I couldn't be bothered to look for warm stuff, thinking I was only going to be 10 minutes. Why I chose a t-shirt and jogging bottoms I will never know, but by the time I got back in to my house, I had icicles running from my own ears. Even the member of staff at Tesco's said I was, "brave".
I ended up getting about £8 worth of pure and utter junk. I was going to ask one of the staff members to direct me to the chilled drinks section, but he looked like a rapist, so I decided against it. Only wierd people work at this time of night! ... *Ahem*
Still, I walked out again, shivering, plastic bag full of crap in hand, and found that, after 10 minutes, the windscreen I had waited 20 minutes to defrost, had frozen over again. That's how cold it is out there. I clambered in, after answering a text from my fellow insomniac friend, and drove home, fog lights on, and here we are. Eating a load of crap.
Hmm, I don't feel tired but I am tempted to go to sleep, so I wake up at normal o'clock tomorrow and I may be able to feel the normalness of civilian life for the first time in ages. Oh yeah! That's what I was going to do. See if there are any football matches to go and see tomorrow! That'll decide what time I go to sleep!
Sorry, just talk amongst yourselves for a bit...
Errr, no. There isn't. Man United are playing, but seeing as I don't have Sky, as I mentioned earlier, watching them is impossible.
I have nothing else to say.
Bye x
Monday 6 December 2010
Oh S***, It's Nearly Christmas!
Well, 19 days yet, but usually by this time I'd be getting a teensy bit excited about getting a few weeks off to enjoy getting fat, getting drunk and getting lots of presents.
This year though, I am a total Scrooge, simply because I have no choice but to work. Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, all working. Ok, the triple time pay is pretty amazing, and ok, some of those days are going to be more dead than Michael Jackson's nose but I am going to be missing out on some major party times. Even more so than usual!
Tonight was extremely quiet. So quiet, that I had done everything by 3am and just sat around for 2 hours doing literally nothing until I had something to do at 5am. I literally sat there looking into deep space for 2 hours. It went as slow as a double leg amputee doing the 100 metre sprint, and it was incredibly dispiriting. I was unusually tired aswell, seeing as I had not got a lot of sleep and things, as is the mood at the moment, were not too great.
Things only started to perk up when Legend Alex turned up at 5:45. The papers had been done, I was ready to go home and yet the manager still wanted a word. What could he possibly want?
You see, after the weekend's fitting from The Wall, it turns out he attempted to call in sick for tonight, despite feeling completely fine all night. Why he doesn't ring in sick when he feels crap, and vice versa, stumps me, but that, he did. Legend Alex suggested that after tonights, and in fact the weekends antics, he was going to call Professional Health.
And what with a phenomonal idea from Saggers about complaining about his fitting, acting as someone else... I get the distinct feeling The Wall's 2011 may not start out too great!
Ciao x
This year though, I am a total Scrooge, simply because I have no choice but to work. Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, all working. Ok, the triple time pay is pretty amazing, and ok, some of those days are going to be more dead than Michael Jackson's nose but I am going to be missing out on some major party times. Even more so than usual!
Tonight was extremely quiet. So quiet, that I had done everything by 3am and just sat around for 2 hours doing literally nothing until I had something to do at 5am. I literally sat there looking into deep space for 2 hours. It went as slow as a double leg amputee doing the 100 metre sprint, and it was incredibly dispiriting. I was unusually tired aswell, seeing as I had not got a lot of sleep and things, as is the mood at the moment, were not too great.
Things only started to perk up when Legend Alex turned up at 5:45. The papers had been done, I was ready to go home and yet the manager still wanted a word. What could he possibly want?
You see, after the weekend's fitting from The Wall, it turns out he attempted to call in sick for tonight, despite feeling completely fine all night. Why he doesn't ring in sick when he feels crap, and vice versa, stumps me, but that, he did. Legend Alex suggested that after tonights, and in fact the weekends antics, he was going to call Professional Health.
And what with a phenomonal idea from Saggers about complaining about his fitting, acting as someone else... I get the distinct feeling The Wall's 2011 may not start out too great!
Ciao x
Sunday 5 December 2010
Leave Me Alone! No... I Didn't Mean It....
For months now I have wished that The Wall would just leave me be to get on with my monotonous jobs while he did his and tonight was no different. Once again, he announced that he was feeling unwell and on the verge of fitting for evermore, but unlike last night, he actually went and had a fit. In fact, he had many. One of which was in front of an 8-person long queue. He walked off, while I dealt with the customers.
What he could of been doing is anyone's guess. Flushing his own head down the toilet maybe or ... I don't know, ripping up boxes of crisps in the warehouse or throwing darts at a life-size model of Jesus? He could of been doing anything, but luckily, all he was doing was walking around, shouting and strangely clutching his hamstring. I've never seen him do that before, maybe he had cramp? Whatever he was feeling, it wasn't good, and after he had come round, he could do nothing but sit in a chair and bow his head. In shame, hopefully. He spoke a few words after about 15 minutes...
"Call an ambulance".
Sure. Why not. I called the ambulance, that amazingly turned into the garage precisely 30 seconds later and after they did a quick check up they took him away. Rule Number 1) No employee shall work on his own at night.
Yep. The rule book was thrown straight out of the window. To be honest, the rule book was thrown out of the window ever since they hired The Wall in the first place. So, for 4 hours I was on my own. Which was half good, half bad. It meant I didn't have to put up with the periless groaning of His Wallness and put up with his failure at being a human being but it was bad, because I still had a lot to do. And it's difficult to get it all done with 2, let alone 1.
However, drunk customers were, strangely, few and far between tonight. I managed to get everything done in good time before Legend Alex the Manager turned up at 5:45.
"Where is he?"
I told him the story plus the fact I had been here on my own since 2:15, mentioning the golden rule as I told him, and I got a single response.
"I don't think he's lasting much longer".
Really though? You said that last time and sod all has happened since then. I'm not letting you know of my thoughts of the situation for the 135th time so I'll get on with it. Strangely, the thoughts of the ultimatum did enter my head, but I still didn't have the bottle to tell him what was really going on in my head. I'm not sure it was all bad anyway. Maybe it will be him that leaves instead of me...
In my few hours of freedom, I managed to speak to a tired-sounding Beddoe and still receive updates on another majestic day for England in the 2nd Ashes Test and even the Geordie guy who delivers the papers was so late that I didn't have to stay and do the 2nd instalment of the ghastly weekend papers.
Tonight then, on paper, should of been catastrophic. But as I stepped into my car at a record time of 6:08am, I thought to myself...
"I still feel crap. But boy, I sort of enjoyed that"
Cya x
What he could of been doing is anyone's guess. Flushing his own head down the toilet maybe or ... I don't know, ripping up boxes of crisps in the warehouse or throwing darts at a life-size model of Jesus? He could of been doing anything, but luckily, all he was doing was walking around, shouting and strangely clutching his hamstring. I've never seen him do that before, maybe he had cramp? Whatever he was feeling, it wasn't good, and after he had come round, he could do nothing but sit in a chair and bow his head. In shame, hopefully. He spoke a few words after about 15 minutes...
"Call an ambulance".
Sure. Why not. I called the ambulance, that amazingly turned into the garage precisely 30 seconds later and after they did a quick check up they took him away. Rule Number 1) No employee shall work on his own at night.
Yep. The rule book was thrown straight out of the window. To be honest, the rule book was thrown out of the window ever since they hired The Wall in the first place. So, for 4 hours I was on my own. Which was half good, half bad. It meant I didn't have to put up with the periless groaning of His Wallness and put up with his failure at being a human being but it was bad, because I still had a lot to do. And it's difficult to get it all done with 2, let alone 1.
However, drunk customers were, strangely, few and far between tonight. I managed to get everything done in good time before Legend Alex the Manager turned up at 5:45.
"Where is he?"
I told him the story plus the fact I had been here on my own since 2:15, mentioning the golden rule as I told him, and I got a single response.
"I don't think he's lasting much longer".
Really though? You said that last time and sod all has happened since then. I'm not letting you know of my thoughts of the situation for the 135th time so I'll get on with it. Strangely, the thoughts of the ultimatum did enter my head, but I still didn't have the bottle to tell him what was really going on in my head. I'm not sure it was all bad anyway. Maybe it will be him that leaves instead of me...
In my few hours of freedom, I managed to speak to a tired-sounding Beddoe and still receive updates on another majestic day for England in the 2nd Ashes Test and even the Geordie guy who delivers the papers was so late that I didn't have to stay and do the 2nd instalment of the ghastly weekend papers.
Tonight then, on paper, should of been catastrophic. But as I stepped into my car at a record time of 6:08am, I thought to myself...
"I still feel crap. But boy, I sort of enjoyed that"
Cya x
Saturday 4 December 2010
An Absentee And A Half
Even if I wasn't going through a difficult patch at the moment, it would be hard to be in a good mood after that.
Friday night, the new busy night of the week, and we were supposed to have 3 people on, until 2am at least. Me and The Wall were present and correct, (sort of), but the 3rd member of the trio was nowhere to be seen and wasn't to be seen all night. To add insult to injury, The Wall announced he had been fitting all day and would be surprised if he went through the whole night without a reoccurance.
"Here we go..", I thought. The final straw coming up. Come 6am, I'm quitting. My ultimatum coming into force. It was made even worse by a vicious headache I had, and the Nurofen hadn't kicked in yet...
But it didn't really turn out to be that bad. Ok, The Wall felt that he couldn't do any of his jobs because he felt unwell, so he parked himself behind Till 1. This left me to get on with my jobs without the hassle of drunk customers, which worked out in my favour! I couldn't care less if he didn't do his jobs, because I did mine! What's more, despite having moments where I thought he was going to start, he didn't, and we got through the whole shift without a single fit. Result. By the time Legend Alex had turned up in the morning, I had spent a relaxing shift going through my, admittedly, monotonous jobs with consumate ease and all was well. Someone else even offered to do most of the horrendous 1st part of the weekend papers for me.
So, at 6.15am, I was driving home in a content mood. Yet again, I was annoyed at the general feelings going on inside my brain and I was annoyed that I hadn't been able to go out like a normal teen, but it's all part of my life these days. Texts from a few people kept me entertained throughout the night, including much-needed Ashes updates, (well batted Bedford boy!), so 6am came around fairly quickly.
I can't help but think tonight is going to be awful though. It is my thought process that if I think something is going to go really, really bad, when it doesn't seem to go like that, it seems good. If I think something is going to go well, and it doesn't, you're left crushed. I haven't got a clue if you understood any of that...
Anyway, I'm not looking forward to tonight at all and seeing as the current time is 09:43 and I don't feel the slightest bit tired is slightly concerning aswell.. I'm usually clinically dead for 12 hours by this time of the morning, but today seems to be different. I may just have a normal morning, go to sleep at 1pm-ish and sacrifice a bit of sleep. It's safe to say football will be cancelled for the 2nd consecutive week tomorrow, so I can catch up then.
It's a hard passage for me this. If you're looking for a simile, it's almost as if I am a batsman who hasn't scored any runs for a few overs, and I'm becoming bogged down, under pressure to get off the mark. It's like that. Sort of... In the Summer, I was hitting boundaries, flowing off my bat but this Winter, I'm playing and missing..
Sorry. I'm strange.
I can't wait for the Summer again. None of this depressing crap bogging me down. And the promised life, ever closer.
Bye x
Friday night, the new busy night of the week, and we were supposed to have 3 people on, until 2am at least. Me and The Wall were present and correct, (sort of), but the 3rd member of the trio was nowhere to be seen and wasn't to be seen all night. To add insult to injury, The Wall announced he had been fitting all day and would be surprised if he went through the whole night without a reoccurance.
"Here we go..", I thought. The final straw coming up. Come 6am, I'm quitting. My ultimatum coming into force. It was made even worse by a vicious headache I had, and the Nurofen hadn't kicked in yet...
But it didn't really turn out to be that bad. Ok, The Wall felt that he couldn't do any of his jobs because he felt unwell, so he parked himself behind Till 1. This left me to get on with my jobs without the hassle of drunk customers, which worked out in my favour! I couldn't care less if he didn't do his jobs, because I did mine! What's more, despite having moments where I thought he was going to start, he didn't, and we got through the whole shift without a single fit. Result. By the time Legend Alex had turned up in the morning, I had spent a relaxing shift going through my, admittedly, monotonous jobs with consumate ease and all was well. Someone else even offered to do most of the horrendous 1st part of the weekend papers for me.
So, at 6.15am, I was driving home in a content mood. Yet again, I was annoyed at the general feelings going on inside my brain and I was annoyed that I hadn't been able to go out like a normal teen, but it's all part of my life these days. Texts from a few people kept me entertained throughout the night, including much-needed Ashes updates, (well batted Bedford boy!), so 6am came around fairly quickly.
I can't help but think tonight is going to be awful though. It is my thought process that if I think something is going to go really, really bad, when it doesn't seem to go like that, it seems good. If I think something is going to go well, and it doesn't, you're left crushed. I haven't got a clue if you understood any of that...
Anyway, I'm not looking forward to tonight at all and seeing as the current time is 09:43 and I don't feel the slightest bit tired is slightly concerning aswell.. I'm usually clinically dead for 12 hours by this time of the morning, but today seems to be different. I may just have a normal morning, go to sleep at 1pm-ish and sacrifice a bit of sleep. It's safe to say football will be cancelled for the 2nd consecutive week tomorrow, so I can catch up then.
It's a hard passage for me this. If you're looking for a simile, it's almost as if I am a batsman who hasn't scored any runs for a few overs, and I'm becoming bogged down, under pressure to get off the mark. It's like that. Sort of... In the Summer, I was hitting boundaries, flowing off my bat but this Winter, I'm playing and missing..
Sorry. I'm strange.
I can't wait for the Summer again. None of this depressing crap bogging me down. And the promised life, ever closer.
Bye x
Friday 3 December 2010
Down And Nearly Out
It seems I am losing my battle against the Winter blues. I just can't think about positive things for a sustained amount of time, before the bad thoughts just enter my head. I don't know how it happens, but I just can't fight against it anymore. I am down and nearly out.
Tonight was very difficult. I had agreed earlier in the week to work tonight as cover after the manager sneakily rang on an unknown number. If I had known who was ringing, I wouldn't have picked up but it was a good ploy from the main man I suppose! I couldn't think of an excuse quick enough so just ended up agreeing. I didn't think I would be missing out on much, until I realised the cricket was on again and I would, once again, have to rely on texts from luckier people.
It seems I missed a lot aswell!
But I had a whopping headache tonight and matched with the fact that it was especially cold and dead, it was horrible. Fuel for the nasty thoughts going through my head all night long. At one stage, it nearly reduced me to tears it was that bad. It sounds stupid, but it is that horrid.
Things aren't going to get better, I'm afraid. As much as people say that it will, it just won't. I know I'm working 8 of the next 10 days and and I know 6 of those are with the ever-frustrating Wall. Whether I survive till the end is another question. You know I have talked about the times I explode out of nowhere? Let loose all my frustrations in one pain-stakingly bad episode? I fear it might be on it's way...
The last time that happened, all hell broke loose. People thought I had gone missing and everyone was so worried. I promised never to run away again, and I will stick to that. I will. But it won't stop me exploding.
I can't explain what I'm thinking to be honest. You have had to have some experience of depression to know what it feels like. It feels like there is no way out and that you are drowning in sorrow. Hence, "drowning your sorrows" I suppose.. It's hard to think positively in these stages. It takes physical effort and mental strength, things that don't appear in my vocabulary.
I just don't know anymore. Part of me is used to it, but part of me just wants it to end..
Tonight was very difficult. I had agreed earlier in the week to work tonight as cover after the manager sneakily rang on an unknown number. If I had known who was ringing, I wouldn't have picked up but it was a good ploy from the main man I suppose! I couldn't think of an excuse quick enough so just ended up agreeing. I didn't think I would be missing out on much, until I realised the cricket was on again and I would, once again, have to rely on texts from luckier people.
It seems I missed a lot aswell!
But I had a whopping headache tonight and matched with the fact that it was especially cold and dead, it was horrible. Fuel for the nasty thoughts going through my head all night long. At one stage, it nearly reduced me to tears it was that bad. It sounds stupid, but it is that horrid.
Things aren't going to get better, I'm afraid. As much as people say that it will, it just won't. I know I'm working 8 of the next 10 days and and I know 6 of those are with the ever-frustrating Wall. Whether I survive till the end is another question. You know I have talked about the times I explode out of nowhere? Let loose all my frustrations in one pain-stakingly bad episode? I fear it might be on it's way...
The last time that happened, all hell broke loose. People thought I had gone missing and everyone was so worried. I promised never to run away again, and I will stick to that. I will. But it won't stop me exploding.
I can't explain what I'm thinking to be honest. You have had to have some experience of depression to know what it feels like. It feels like there is no way out and that you are drowning in sorrow. Hence, "drowning your sorrows" I suppose.. It's hard to think positively in these stages. It takes physical effort and mental strength, things that don't appear in my vocabulary.
I just don't know anymore. Part of me is used to it, but part of me just wants it to end..
Wednesday 1 December 2010
Game Over, Please Try Again
Today has been as cold, fruitless and downright boring as yesterday. Saying that, I went to the cinema in the end in Milton Keynes to watch the film, 'Unstoppable', which I wanted to stop as soon as possible. It wasn't great.. So today has been worse than yesterday!
The true subject of this blog today however is UCAS. The website that processes university applications and today, I recieved an e-mail to let me know that my UCAS Track status has changed. Big news. One of my 4 University choices has come to a decision! I logged in, typed my password in and then Windows decided to 'Not Respond'. Great timing Bill Gates...
I logged in again, and waited... then waited some more.... My laptop, despite being relatively new, has become deathly slow the last few weeks, until the screen finally appeared and my eyes drew into the word 'Unsuccessful'. Ouch. My first rejection, albeit from my 4th choice university, (Bournemouth), but it made me think something...
My mind is set on going to university in September. Before this rejection, I was thinking about what it was going to be like and what the course will offer, the new friendships I will make, the antics that will most certainly come with university life, and most importantly, the independance of it all...
But what if I get all rejections? What if no one wants me? What will I do then?
I know it's only one rejection. I know there are 3 other universities still considering my application but all of a sudden, I realise there isn't a lot of doors to open if I get a whole board of rejections. I was 100% set on going to university, not thinking about whether they actually want me, but now... I still want to go, more than ever, but...
What else is there for me to do as a career? I'm certainly not going to be at BP this time next year, 1,000,000,000% no. I did consider The Police before settling on the university option but I know it wouldn't be where I wanted for certain. I really don't know.
However. I will try to put a single rejection out of my mind and remember that there are still 3 more opportunities. All is certainly not lost and you never know, I could get another e-mail tomorrow telling me my 1st choice has accepted me.
Making this post completely useless!
Bye x
The true subject of this blog today however is UCAS. The website that processes university applications and today, I recieved an e-mail to let me know that my UCAS Track status has changed. Big news. One of my 4 University choices has come to a decision! I logged in, typed my password in and then Windows decided to 'Not Respond'. Great timing Bill Gates...
I logged in again, and waited... then waited some more.... My laptop, despite being relatively new, has become deathly slow the last few weeks, until the screen finally appeared and my eyes drew into the word 'Unsuccessful'. Ouch. My first rejection, albeit from my 4th choice university, (Bournemouth), but it made me think something...
My mind is set on going to university in September. Before this rejection, I was thinking about what it was going to be like and what the course will offer, the new friendships I will make, the antics that will most certainly come with university life, and most importantly, the independance of it all...
But what if I get all rejections? What if no one wants me? What will I do then?
I know it's only one rejection. I know there are 3 other universities still considering my application but all of a sudden, I realise there isn't a lot of doors to open if I get a whole board of rejections. I was 100% set on going to university, not thinking about whether they actually want me, but now... I still want to go, more than ever, but...
What else is there for me to do as a career? I'm certainly not going to be at BP this time next year, 1,000,000,000% no. I did consider The Police before settling on the university option but I know it wouldn't be where I wanted for certain. I really don't know.
However. I will try to put a single rejection out of my mind and remember that there are still 3 more opportunities. All is certainly not lost and you never know, I could get another e-mail tomorrow telling me my 1st choice has accepted me.
Making this post completely useless!
Bye x
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