I'm not sure whether it's the novelty of waking up at such a stupid time, simply to go to work, or whether I've matured since the days of waking up early to go to school, but I find waking up at around 5am as much easier than waking up at 8am. Everyone wakes up at 8am. If you tell people you wake up at 8am to go to work, you will receive nothing but a "meh". If you tell people you wake up at 5am, the reaction you get is one of heartwarming sympathy and genuine shock. This makes you feel a bit better about yourself.
Anyway, I'm sure it's just a novelty, but the sheer fact of the matter is, I'm only at BP for another 6 weeks. In 6 weeks, there or there abouts, I shall be on the M1 on my way down south to begin the promised life, and all of a sudden, typing this, has made me realise that it really isn't that far away.. A new place to live, new friends to make, new spots to chill out in, new things to learn, new drinks to discover... It's all becoming a reality, yet preperation still feels like it's a long way off... Like, MAJOR preperation.
Back to the present, and yes, once again, I did awake at 05:15, once again, strangely, without the use of the alarm clock I had sadly set at midnight the night before, and before I could say, "Geronimo", I was driving to work on a damp, grey, miserable bitch of a morning. Upon arrival, I got to work counting the safe, as I anticipated another day sat on Till 1, welcoming each customer with the dreaded line of, "Would you like a 5p bag?" and wistfully looking at the clock, waiting for 2pm, so I could rush out the door and get to cricket as soon as I could. Instead, as soon as Legend Alex turned up, he announced a bit of a change to normal and said I would be situated on the shop floor. Ok. A bit of a change I suppose, could be good. It wasn't. The first 2 hours were fine, as I just did general rubbish that you don't want to hear about, but as soon as that delivery came at 8am, (of which there were pallet loads), the morning went slower and slower and slower and slo....
Sorry, I drifted off there for a second. It was that boring, so much so, that I end up in a coma just thinking about this morning's shift. It went even slower, as I realised that cricket was a no-no thanks to the Vietnam-esque monsoon we had all morning, and by the time 2pm came round, I ran out the door and never looked back. Saying that, the final hour or so was interesting as Father Mitten turned up waiting for someone to come and look at the Mittenmobile. This man though, shifty looking, only offered 600 quid, and although I would of taken that a couple of months back, the ever ambitious Father Mitten laughed him off. 600 quid? No chance.
Anyway. Enough for today. I have a 21st to get ready for, and after waking up after a few hours kip this afternoon, I feel just about ready to go and give it a good shot. These guys are a bit different to the Hawkers however... These guys' sense of humour may just be enough to confuse the living daylights out of me! Never mind. I'm off to get ready, (a.k.a Buy some vodka), and have a good night.
I trust you will all have the same. (Maybe minus the vodka...)
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