Sick Of It

Ohhh the past 36 hours or so have been rather tough...

We'll start with Thursday night which was surprisingly good, as I had wanted to keep my week's holiday going as long as humanly possible but maybe had a little too much to drink.. The results were, let's say, stomach churning.. A terrible hangover in the morning/afternoon but these should be embraced as they are only a reminder of what a good night you had!

Still, Friday had come. Back to work, and for the first time, probably since I started, I had the prospect of working, sleeping and then going out to referee. My first adult game. I really wasn't in a good mood. Arguing with the parents followed by 8 hours of hell with His Wallness and the new guy followed by more abuse at a football match whilst half asleep.. What else could go wrong?

You see, I have far less enthusiasm for refereeing than I do for cricket. Mountains worth of enthusiasm between the two, so when it came for me to wake up, 5 and a half hours after I had got home from work, I just couldn't do it... I had severely underestimated the task of waking up after little sleep to be shouted at, and I bottled it, big time. I "rang in sick", so to speak. I texted the referee secretary saying I had lost my voice and didn't feel too good. A blatent lie. I said I'd lost my voice so I didn't receive a phone call back! How petulant is that..?

I can't do it then. I can't wake up every Saturday to recieve abuse for something I'm not entirely sure I want to do. I need to act fast to change that and I'm going to make a few people very angry..

Work tonight though, is going to be a different prospect because I have the promise of the last cricket match of the season tomorrow, which means more enthusiasm on my part and probably a happier shift. Why am I like this?

Ciao x