Wednesday 1 April 2009

Wednesday 1 April 2009

April Fools Day and I’m the biggest fool going.

I’m pregnant!

Gotcha!

Excitement abounds today at the prospect of carnage in London. Personally I pretty much hate all parties involved – the world leaders, the soap dodgers, the city worker salarymen, the police. Hopefully they’ll just all kill each other as they threaten one another’s way of life and leave London empty for the rest of us moderate normal people to enjoy.

There is a strange sight on GMTV this morning as stood outside Number 10 the GMTV reporter/correspondent interviews another GMTV reporter/correspondent. Surely a journalist should be interviewing a third party, an external participant in the story. What are they trying to pull off and get away with? Why do they do this? Two payslips and laziness.

Today is not even a consideration. I cannot be bothered with it any more but with my left foot not quite at 100% and how the media is promising central London to be a warzone today, I choose to use these facts as an excuse to get out of P.E. It is a real shame how the class has changed compared to this time last year, the facilities are now dire in comparison, the day and time of the class is just a plain nuisance and all possible fun has been squeezed out of proceedings by people taking the whole thing far too seriously. I hate people without lives.

Undaunted by the prospect of a lairy London I board my train as normal. At Colchester the commuters boarding the train is as normal at a time when I thought there might be less people heading up town, taking the intimidation of the march/protestors as an excuse to take the day off. That’s what I would have done. People are however noticeably dressed down.

As the train stops at Kelvedon absolutely nobody boards which is something of a first, not even bike guy gets on the train. This is then echoed by the fact that commuters boarding the train at Chelmsford is very light on the ground.

The train rolls into Liverpool Street at 8.07. Upon stepping off the train and into the station the place is disappointingly sedate. Where are the mobs and enflamed buildings that the media was promising me?

When I get on the tube it smells of piss, have the soap dodgers been through here already?

Trawling myself into work today I feel so heavy, so deflated about recent work developments. Ever since last Wednesday and the beginning of my second year at the restaurant it has all gone so royally wrong. Workload wise why is everything being done at once? In addition to the inherited never ending mess that is my job why am I expected to take on the chores of the long departed person that took me on? How dare the IT guy (the computer guy!) criticise me!

So yeah I go into work feeling pretty hateful and then my boss serves to additionally wind me up and then Nora gives me some homemade dim sum steamed buns (bau). How on earth can I rock such a bad mood when presented with such gifts? This great gesture is the first thing to put a smile on my face today. She is a really lovely lady.

Soon into the day the auditors begin asking me questions pulling me away from my real duties that should really take priority over these queries. Its frustrating.

The IT guy then turns up and proceeds to act as if nothing is up. When he chips his opinion into conversations one time too many I just fucking lose it and shout “are you going to fucking shout at us today?” With him evidently somewhat more over last Wednesday than I am he holds his hands up apologises for shouting at us last week and for me that is more than enough and thoroughly stops me in my tracks (thankfully). He proceeds to say he had typed an apology email the next day but never sent it and that he actually said to one of the bosses last week after his rant that he thought we were the best accounts team the place has had. At least it turned out eventually.

The remainder of the day pans out with an atmosphere in the air but it is now unnecessary and hopefully soon things will resume back to normal although the immediate reaction to the day is that everyone in our office walks on egg shells.

Away from this the day pans out in a very stressful manner. The workload is not getting any lighter and the BIG deadline looms ever closer.

Listening to the news reports from the city it generally sounds as if the all threats from today have been snuffed out by the army of police with their helmets, shields and batons. Its really dull and most definitely not what the television was promising us. Disappointing.

In the afternoon our financial consultant turns up and it is without me having got my shit together due to the many distractions of the day. I feel as if I am a disappointment in his eyes but I’ll get over it.

Shortly afterwards finally there are reports of some action in the city as some bums tear apart an RBS on Threadneedle Street (now to be renamed Threadbare Street I believe). God bless the BBC and the rolling coverage on their website. The footage coming through is disgusting, if these guys really wanted to steal computers why didn’t they hit Dixons or a PC World where the selection would have been a lot wider. As the windows get smashed in there are no policemen in sight instead there is a sea of photographers gathering around getting their pictures instead of trying to stop the rioters and make any gesture of worth. This is paparazzi.

I have to giggle at the political correctness of one of the captions of a picture where a black guy smashing the window is described as a “masked protestor.” Stupid white men indeed.

Towards the end of the afternoon I find myself in a meeting discussing just what the Tronc system is all about. We meander however and end up dissecting the whole weekly trading reports going over the self explanatory areas unnecessarily. Partway through the meeting the IT guy gets called in for his explanation/opinion/feedback and realising that this was the area that caused him to kick off so excessively last week I shrink and cringe like fuck bracing myself for a repeat of the previous abuse. Fortunately it doesn’t come as my body language and retraction from proceedings speaks volumes.

I end up staying/working late tonight after too many cooks (as usual) get involved and spoil the broth. After about an hour of fannying around I make a healthy degree of late progress and chip off home. In the process of this delay I forget all about the dim sum buns and leave them at work as I head home remembering them on the tube. I hope dim sum steamed buns don’t go off.

By the time I get to Liverpool Street there is yet again a distinct lack of excitement in the air and lack of riot.

Tonight I catch the 6.48 train to Colchester which isn’t too late considering. As I sit on the train I watch a Chinese girl chatting away to her friend (hopefully oblivious of the protests for tourist reasons). She’s only semi pretty but entirely funny as she pulls a sweet from her pocket and puts it in her mouth with the inner wrapper still on it. It is with the most anticipation of the day that I await her eventual realisation and reaction to the wrapper. Comedy gold.

It seems somewhat stupid that today’s protest was coupled with an England game at Wembley – surely that has congestion and clash written all over it.

The plan for the evening is to head to the olds to watch it on their big TV with Sky but when I get to their gaff their annoying neighbours (the couple in their fifties) are sat on the sofa taking up my space, my seat watching the football. Room for a little one? Nope.

Happily at half time they fuck off, just as I am making my own gestures to leave. This is not before however that the woman reveals that she used to have a family dog in the form of a Cocker Spaniel named “Nigger.” Different times.

Eventually I get home to Bohemian Grove just after 10PM. This week I watch The Apprentice You’re Fired without having seen the main programme first. Week two doesn’t sound as if it was classic. The Jody Morris lookalike Rocky is the person to get fired this week. Lets face it somebody called “Rocky” was never going to win anything was he – Northern working class scum.

After a testing day I soon pass out to sleep.

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