Final Stretch

I have 11 more days before I finally leave BP, (for the second time), and embark on my new journey and the anticipation is becoming too much. My excitement is so much that I may have let out a little scream at 3am this morning, my nervousness has resulted in me daydreaming about drowning in the Channel and the whole situation, after 8 months in the waiting, has nearly exploded into an epiphony of Jack Daniels and vomit. Ladies and Gentleman, I am so close, yet so far.

The imaginary little calendar and accomponying little red pen has crossed off another day, but before I reach the promised mark of Saturday 24th September, (exactly 2 weeks away), I must negotiate 3 more night shifts, a weekend of outrageously early starts, that may include suicidal drinking in between, and a fair few long afternoons and, as you can probably work out, I am not looking forward to it. I officially leave in 11 days and I have only 2 of those days completely off work, so I will not have a lot of time to dwindle on the future. I suppose the more money I take to Brighton, and to probably give to various bars and clubs there, the better.

Tonight was the start of another working week, and cycling to work at 9.30pm wasn't the best of experiences. I was in a vicious mood, a couple of drivers pressed the middle of their steering wheel, meaning that a loud horn-like noise was made, as they seemed angry at the fact I couldn't be seen, despite having a massive flashing light on my bike, and generally, it was horrible. Things didn't improve as I got to work, as I was asked to clean something that was genuinely impossible to clean, a man tried to pay for £60's worth of fuel with a Polish bank card and another pair of Europeans attempted to buy a barrels worth of Budweiser accompanied by vodka, despite barely having the ability to walk because of intoxication. I think it was safe to say they had had their share of alcohol for one night, and given there was Police standing behind them, I wasn't going to risk getting fined by making their night more enjoyable.

Things didn't get better, as my colleague decided to get into a very heated argument with a taxi driver about the amount of time he took to get his fuel. Apparently, the taxi driver had sat in his taxi forever, leaving my colleague in limbo with authorising the fuel, and as soon as my colleague decided he wasn't going to, the taxi driver decided he was going to, and ended up waiting forever. He came in, and told him calmly that he had waited a long time, but my colleague got annoyed with him. It was all a bit silly, and I had to come off my break to calm the two parties down, using skills probably gained in the refereeing department to defuse the situation. It was a bit awkward though, and they left it on bad terms. This, including the fact I won f-all on the EuroMillions once again, meant it was generally a pretty rough night. And of course, to cap it all off, The Goddess of All Evil came in, at 5.25am, and started criticising. Just shut up woman.

Funnily enough, another manager came in also, which was strange as he doesn't live anywhere near Bedford, but he claimed he "needed to do important work". It had nothing to do with the fact he's seeing off one of the cashiers and had given her a lift to work... Of course it didn't... *wink wink*

I hope tonight goes better. But seeing as it's a Saturday night, chances are it won't. I'll be missing out on general Saturday night madness, while I serve drunks with their customary 20 Mayfair, as they complain that £6.54 is too much for cigarettes, with me thinking that they should just give up if it's all too much for them.

Same old story, but in 2 weeks, my own liver won't know what's hit it. And my liver is usually pretty prepared.