Archive for March, 2013

Dream a little dream

Has it been nearly ten days already since my last post? Time seems to fly by when you’ve been stuck on never-ending backshifts for over a week with a single day off, and still another two more days to go! That sums up pretty much everything I’ve been doing, with the addition of more seems as I get home when everyone else starts to go to bed and I’ve developed an aversion to staying up until five in the morning (today being an exception) downstairs in the living room watching movies or whatever.

One thing that has happened due to getting in a few more hours sleep is that I now have a lot more semi-lucid dreams, including an unfortunate one where I was driving around and got lost at night in a town that seemed quite nice and seaside-y but I had no idea how to navigate. On this rainy evening I pull into a parking space behind some a block of flats and two guys try to steal my car, a scuffle occurs, and one of them gets a kicking while the other gets run over as I make good on my getaway. Another involved an old flame making an unwanted visit culminating in me realising that I was dreaming, saying “fuck you” in the dream and deliberately waking myself up. The longer I try to sleep the more likely it is the dream will eventually turn to shit.

I’ll leave you to interpret that, I’m off to bed.

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First day back at work today, felt like I’d both been away forever and no time at all. Found myself for the first time ever sitting in the car park with exactly three minutes to spare, my eyes closed and having to will myself to turn off the car engine and go into that god forsaken cunt of a place. Nothing had changed, not that I really expected it to given that I’d only been off for a week. Tell a lie, there was a difference: one of the guys in my team got sacked, and I’m not all that pleased about it.

The guy in question (who I think I named here ages ago, but I can’t be arsed hunting it down now) had given out a few free upgrades to friends and family members, got caught, and got thrown out the door. It was a rather naughty thing to do, but it seemed largely like an excuse to get rid of him, given that someone who was doing the exact same solely to profit from it (and wreaked havoc with people’s bills as a result) was apparently going to get another chance if only he hadn’t been a bit of a cunt in the disciplinary. As a general rule of thumb: Fucking the People = Bad, Fucking the Man = Not so Bad. That’s in my book anyway. If a multi-billion pound company loses a few pennies due to a couple of employees giving out things to friends while still raking in money as part of subscriptions and more than likely tying those same people into new twelve month contracts just to get their fancy new DVR then I’m not going to shed a tear. Sure it was his own fault, but now some guy is left without a job in a really fucking shitty job market with no good references and more than a years hole in his employment history to justify, idiocy on all sides.

You might be able to tell that I’m not too chuffed to spend my days sitting in front of a PC all day listening to cunts, even sitting in front of a PC all day playing computer games was better. My voice has slowly been returning, now sounding more like a shit Billy Connolly impersonation that anything else, but still has the habit of breaking at the most inconvenient times, usually when a cutie from customer services is walking by or I’m having to explain in detail why someone is an idiot. The lowest point of today however had to be the woman who called up shouting that her internet was slow/intermittent/wanted to cancel/unhappy/blah/piss/moan. She hadn’t called up in the last six months, she was entirely wrong about everything she was determined she was right about, and I fixed the problem and hold a slight glimmer of hope that she feels like the cow she is. But all that is par for the course, what really annoyed me was the fact she opened up a packets of crisps and started eating them on the call. One of my real pet hates. Some of you might think it’s an overreaction, but imagine this already arrogant fucking arsehole slobbering and chewing and panting and blowing out through their nose as you’re trying to fix the mild problem they’ve treated like scurvy of the clit or something, and they’re doing it right in your ear. Was determined not to let it bug me, really I should’ve either told her to quit filling her usually cock filled gob for five minutes or just hung up. I’m just rusty after having been off for a while, normal service shall resume tomorrow!

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I’ve got a week off of work, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. Since Monday I’ve come down with what seems to be the flu minus the feeling mightily shit part, probably brought on by all the plaster dust hovering in the house during the redecorating and my girly wee lungs. I’m sitting here with a voice that’s dangerously close to being lost while going through different sounds from Christopher Walken to Bane and finally settling on a vague drag queen timbre. Another ten hours of near constant talking and I’d have probably been a mute for a few days and not got any sick pay from it either.

Anyhoo, now I’m trying to convince myself to do something remotely constructive. It only took me about 25 minutes to force myself to sit down and write these small words so things are looking up. Keeping myself amused is difficult, and has become considerably more so since my green stocks ran dry. I’d gotten into the habit of having a joint on most nights after getting home from work, lying monged on my bed reading or listening to music then drifting off into a nice easy sleep. It was simple, and it passed the time brilliantly. Now I’m constantly aware of each minute passing by and keeping myself amused until I eventually grow tired enough to fall asleep. Life’s longer, but not really much better.

Managed to finally get a catch up with Marsha a couple of days ago as well, between me working and her being in and out of hospital (before finally just getting her gall bladder torn out and fixing a large part of the problem) I’d not seen her or wee Babby since last year. Ended up going for a road trip into Edinburgh and experienced the delights of the one and only Krispy Kreme in Scotland. Part of me wanted to burn the place down solely due to it being a fucking drive-through doughnut shop and the ridiculously long queues to get served. Another part of me however must admit that the doughnuts are delicious, and the building should be revered for the unique abomination it is. You can tell I really want more but know I shouldn’t.

Other than that I’ve got my coffin into a halfway usable state, now only a stream of wires trailing along the floor, I’ve actually cleaned! Now I’m spending this lovely Sunday evening plucking up the courage to make the five minute car journey into the shops and see about getting myself some new specs that don’t have rust on them. Knowing my luck that’ll come right into style soon as I chuck them. Fuck it.

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