Highly Strung

A few of us were sitting round having a chat and a laugh today when my boss made a quip, unfortunately I don’t speak Scots so I had to ask him to repeat it three times. I could tell he was getting pretty damned exasperated with by the end of it. It was all very much like the conversations between Alan Partridge and his Geordie security guard mate…’i'm sorry, didn’t quite catch that…’ Funnily enough what he was saying was some kind of football metaphor which meant fuck all to me anyway.

Setting: Work local of the past three years

Players:
Barmaid
Worker Bee
Various work buddies
Assorted spectators

Scene 1 One night after work 5.31pm

Worker Bee: Hello bar-lady may I have one pint of lager, one glass of chenin blanc and a bowl of your lovely lovely wedges please.

Barmaid: We don’t have any wedges.

Worker Bee: oh well, never mind the wedges then.

Scene 2 One work day lunchtime some time later 12.31pm

Worker Bee: I’ll have a glass of coke and some of your lovely lovely wedges please.

Barmaid: I told you last time we don’t do wedges.

Worker Bee: Oh I thought you meant you were out of them, you always used to have them.

Barmaid: No, we’ve never had them…

Worker bee (to self): yes you bloody have, how long have you been working here 5 minutes?

Scene 3 Two days later 5.31pm, outside work local

Worker Bee relates the tale of the wedges to a disinterested crowd. As she does so, a barmaid sashays past with a bowl of wedges in her hand….

Worker Bee: ??!!@*!@**

ah life, it’s a funny old thing isn’t it? Just when you think it’s all under control, you realise that actually you’ve very little control. Sometimes you just have to wait it out and assume it will all work out. It’s particularly difficult if you’re used to making things happen rather than waiting for them to happen.

Still in bed, can’t remember the last time I’ve been so lazy. I’m sitting here tryig to motivate myself to ride to Leytonstone..I will do it, it’s just going to take a lot of mental preparation given the fact that I have a hangover and the wind seems quite strong.

Another day, another person doesn’t turn up to see my room. Thank you Jennifer from Wapping, if it wasn’t for you I would still be sleeping right now. Whilst I appreciate the text I received this morning to say you’re not coming, I must say the excuse of a migraine don’t wash with me. I’ve used that self same excuse a number of times myself.

Well now, that was an absolute shit of a day. Stroppy emails from all quarters, complaining phonecalls, a hell of a hangover, tedious meetings and blatant mistrust of my capabilities. Added to this is the stress of finding a new person for my room in the flat and all the other stuff that goes along with my impending move. Fun, fun, fun…

Come 8.30pm I’m finally on my way home and it all just gets too much, I’m looking for any excuse to break down and have a bloody decent cry. I’m 2.5 pints down and only partly tipsy when I walk into a shop to purchase a litre and a half of water. The man at the counter is chatting with a woman in a language I don’t understand. I approach the counter expecting to be ignored by the two of them, as I arrive the coolness of this evening causes a shiver to cross my body. The man behind the counter notices and breaks off his conversation to place his hand a leather jacket on a shelf behind him and say “would you like my coat?”. This simple quip surpises me and I reflect that perhaps life isn’t so bad after all and reply “s’all right I’ll be home soon”. The 187 arrives after a 2 minute wait and 5 minutes later I am deposited on my street.

One hour later I’m curled up in bed, leccy blanket on, big bottle of water by my side, cathartic blog post in progress and soon a soothing sleep.

Good Night and Good Luck….

Everyone I know is moving and from now until end of September I am attending 5 leaving do’s .

I fear I shall be sloppy drunk until October, at which point I will hide away in my new home and watch intellectual foreign films whilst sucking on Gauloise and murmmering ‘I just vant to be left alone’ to nobody in particular. But do not think I vill be unhappy, no no, I shall be content in my solitude. For if I am alone, no one shall ever leave me. I am a rock, I am an island, and a rock feels no pain and an island never cries…

Melodramatic? Me? I don’t think so…

Twunt! It’s work email friendly and it makes me laugh. I was little concerned I had simply made it up by combining to popular swear words, however after spotting a copy of Viz’s Profanisaurus on a colleagues desk, I now know it is a real word (cos Viz says so!).

Profanisaurus definition:

twunt n. Useful, satisfying yet inoffensive combination of two very rude words which can safely be spoken in primmest and properest company.

An example of it’s use in context: Russell Brand is a twunt.

http://www.viz.co.uk/?domain=viz&page=%2Fprofanisaurus%2Fprofan_front_index.php%3Ffb%3D1″>Profanisaurus

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Male flatmate has been assembling a flat pack desk for the last three hours, I wonder if I should offer my most excellent flat pack building skills to him? Nah, I’m bored, but I’m not that bored.

Colleague: Can I check it?

Me and another colleague in unison: Yes you can..