Wednesday 22 April 2009
Dream: another day another dream of hanging out with my former boss the producer with the guy acting friendly and courteous, the complete opposite of how he is to be remember for the way he acted (and still acts?) for the two and a half years of my tenure. Scarily I am now earning 18 grand more than his tight arse was paying me.
Today is the first day this year that I am not wearing my coat to work and it feels liberating.
I leave home slightly late this morning and driving to the station I find myself being frowned upon when I beep/honk my horn at the car in front of me that stops to allow an old lady walking her dogs cross the road - I know, I’m a dick. As I look at her she is angrily shaking her head in disgust at me in that non-threatening way that little old ladies do. I fire back a sarcastic smile mouthing unapologetically the word “work” at her. Yup, I’m a dick.
On the platform at the station the day becomes topical as I notice a man that looks like Susan Boyle waiting for the train with us. He doesn’t look like he would be very good at singing either but I bet that means he has the voice of an angel. I think this woman has tapped into something (or rather Simon Cowell will have by the end of it). Her look is so everywoman and everyman and the support for her will always be unending and infinite. Not that the circus is pushing anything forward.
By the time the train reaches Liverpool Street for a second day running the Piers Fletcher-Dervish lookalike is really grimacing again. As we get up to leave the train I ask him if he is “all right?” breaking the fourth wall. He tells me he has fucked his knees up and he doesn’t know how. Nasty.
Today is Earth Day, whatever that means. It is also Budget Day. OK, lets see just how this government intends to drag us out of the shit without dragging through it further first.
At work it is a slow day. Until midday it is only The Girl and I. I still get hassle from people dropping off deliveries and one particularly unhelpful chump just dumps a pallet of new china wear on the street outside the restaurant which could easily see us get in trouble. Where are the people that are supposed to be dealing with this?
Later I get a call from one of the sites and some guy from EDF (collection agent) has turned up threatening to cut off their power supply. Likewise I deal with this shit but again where are the people that are supposed to be dealing with this?
The morning flies by without me accomplishing anything that I had wanted to. This annoyance is then coupled with the new software on my PC slowing it down to new extremes revealing to the IT guy that I just have too much stuff on my hard drive.
In the afternoon one of the chefs comes up with a query he has about a self-assessment letter (and fine) he has received in the post. I thought we had sorted this out at the end of February. To be honest I don’t really know what I am doing but I do my best.
The boss lets us out half an hour early meaning I get back to Colchester this evening before 7PM. This is a true accomplishment.
When I stop by the olds I would appear that I have broken their computer. As I play with it a bit more it begins to make booting noises which suggests the problem is more with the monitor than the computer thankfully. It still points towards things costing money in replacement but luckily I eventually get the thing working. I do have a history of breaking other peoples’ computers so I do have something of a complex and easy guilt trip in this area.
As I spend the evening at my parents nicer and more comfortable flat once again I take The Simpsons in preference to the yawn fest that appears to be Chelsea v Everton on Sky.
At 9PM I watch The Apprentice for only the second time this series. It is the breakfast cereal challenge featuring Pants Man and half way through it becomes obvious that the team managed by the Yank is making an utter balls up of the task and that the Septic is fucked. Too many times she reminds me of you know who. Eventually and unsurprisingly she gets the sack but not before making a spectacle of herself in the boardroom get all dramatic as the evil little fucker in glasses stitches her up.
It’s a drag that this bird gets the hoof as she was the only one I ever really fancied and once the attractive competitors are removed the show suddenly it means you have to begin to pay attention to what the candidates are doing.
As I begin to watch The Apprentice You’re Fired I notice the squaddie with the dog outside so I head out to see them. As soon as Bobby sees me he comes running over jumping up to me seemingly really happy to see me. I am relieved that he is still alive as yet again these people are walking him without a leash (this is bound to end in tears). After the initial flurry of excitement Bobby soon calms down and begins go off adventuring again leaving me to talk to the couple looking after him. These guys are from a different world to me so it is difficult. By nature I am weary of squaddies (it is drummed into at an early age when going out in Colchester) so I don’t really let much go. That said we get on, they’re ok and I’m ok.
It is headed towards 10.30PM when I get back inside and buoyed on by seeing the dog I tear into some Guitar Hero 4 action tearing into “Kick Out The Jams” for the first time, which just might be one of the greatest songs ever to appear on Guitar Hero.
As I wind up and shut up shop (the flat) for the night and begin to head home I read online that Roy Keane is emerging as the favourite for the job of manager at Ipswich Town. Are you fucking kidding me?
I decide to stick around for this weeks’ Newswipe before finally heading home but this week turns out to be a compilation of the previous four episodes, which tastes slightly lazy but does come with the humorous sight of Charlie Brooker in an Avid Merrion neckbrace.
Finally I get home to Bohemian Grove and immediately head to bed.