pain, loss, depression, despair..

It’s over with Donna.
It hardly feels accurate to say it was ‘on’ in the first place really, but whatever it might be that adequately describes the bond that we’d developed is no longer apt, because it’s over. We got drunk together, that was the problem. I became my usual buoyant, opinionated, over-friendly self; she got morose and told me all about her boyfriend back in Nottingham.
That stung a little..
Then we had an increasingly heated discussion about lies, and wasting time, and toying with people’s emotions. Then she told me she misses him. She thinks it must be the real thing, and she can’t wait to finish her course and get back to him ‘to start their life.’ I asked if I was nothing more than a bit of fun and she said “Well… not that much fun, to be honest.” And at that point it was over. My mouth dried, my throat contracted and I could feel the cold pieces of my shattered heart falling down my innards into my stomach. She said ‘sorry’ when I left. That was sweet of her. If she had said ‘I hope we can still be friends’ I think I would have punched her in the face.
Now I have to avoid the library like a leper colony, and somehow reconcile the fact that – even though I want to hate every fibre of her fulsome, pert body – I really, really liked her. And it really, really hurts.

RC 30-3-09
0916 BST!

The pressure is on

We had our monthly staff meeting today. Horribly enough, I was discussed at length. My sponsored weight loss seems to have caught the imagination of the entire workforce, and if I succeed in losing my target 3 stone in 3 months I’ll raise over £400 for charity!
Panic-stricken, I sat and did some figures. Taking April 1st as my start date (it seemed the right thing to say at the meeting – ‘so it’s easy to keep track of where I am… and in case anyone hasn’t sponsored me yet’) I’ll have 92 days in which to lose 42 lbs, or just over 19 kilos in old money. That’s one kilogram every 4.8 days, or an average daily drop of 7.4 ounces. I’m not trying to blind you with statistics, its just that I’ve sat and worked it out every possible way I can, and whichever measurements and equations I use I end up thinking I’ve made a horrible, horrible mistake and (ironically in the circumstances) bitten off more than I can chew. I wish I’d signed up for a sponsored silence, or gluttony.
I desperately searched the internet for a quick-fix weight loss pill but it seems there isn’t one.. Well, not one backed by appropriate research and a valid licence anyroad.. It turns out the ‘sensible’ thing to do is exercise much more, and eat much less, but that goes against everything I believe and enjoy as a human being.
It’s gonna be a loooooong 3 months.

RC 27-3-09
2025 GMT

Insomniac, 25, seeks answers..

Here’s a few of the things I mull over while laying awake in daylight between shifts..

Why is clingfilm so impossible to use?

Why do we still change the clocks in March and October?

What is the point of Graham Norton?

Is the warm lovely feeling I get when seeing Donna a result of the unexplainable cosmic force of love? Or am I just desperate to bang her?

If a tree falls over in the forest, and there’s no-one there to see it fall, can I still get away with stealing magazines from the library, even though I know it’s wrong?

Why are magazines so expensive?

Is the fact that I’m still benefiting from the ‘National Geographic’ subscription that Melissa bought me as a present before we split up contradictory to my attitude that she’s a bitch that I wish I’d never encountered?

Why don’t I understand the atom?

Isn’t everything about quantum physics complete bollocks, made up by physicists to keep themselves in a job?

Why do people doubt that we ever went to the moon?

Why don’t they ever show ‘Dogtanian’ on childrens TV anymore?

Why is the female mind so confusing?

Wasn’t ‘Parkinson’ so much better in the seventies?

Is it really wrong to eat cheese with every meal?

Why do I get so breathless when I do even small amounts of physical exercise?

Are the answers to the last two questions connected?

If sci-fi was never invented, what would fans of ‘Star Trek’ and ‘Star Wars’ find to fill their vacant lives?

Feel free not to send answers….

RC 26-3-09
2115 GMT

From the sublime to the ridiculously ugly..

I’m sitting in the library staring at what can only be described as the ugliest woman I have ever encountered on this planet.
I called in to look at Donna for a while, and to get out any books they might have on The Highway Code before I start driving lessons next week. It turns out the only book they have that’s relevant to the Highway Code… is the Highway Code. And there’s a six month waiting list to get one.
Donna is looking radiant in a blue blouse and pin-striped skirt, with her hair tied back using an orange hairband. Funny how you notice all the small details when you fancy someone..
Seeing Donna’s natural beauty in the same room as the monstrosity opposite me only highlights just how hideous this gargoyle is. Who was that actress who looked a bit like Fatima Whitbread and appeared in the Bond movie ‘Living Daylights’? Imagine the offspring resulting in a coupling between her and a toothless in-bred Siberian goat farmer. Then imagine that offspring having an anvil dropped on its face by a passing 747, and then having facial reconstruction performed by a drunk, blind, one-armed insane capuchin… And you still wouldn’t be anywhere close to describing the rancid beast I can see beyond the monitor.
The people who spawned her and let her out in public should be arrested and charged with crimes against humanity. If God exists, and we’re made in her image, she must have been having a hell of a bad hair day when she created this thing. I keep closing my eyes just to give myself a break from her. I like to believe you can find beauty in anyone… but I don’t think you could find beauty in this if you did a four-year autopsy with a laser.
I think I need to be sick.

RC 26-3-09
0957 GMT

Cars, and ma's

Ted has offered to help me with my driving tuition. I thought he meant financially, but it turns out he spent part of his time in the Army as an instructor, so he’s gonna come out with me ‘on the road’ and give me a few pointers. A few things pop into my head that prevent me getting too excited.
Number 1 – neither he nor I have a car we can actually go out in.
Number 2 – in his Army days he was an instructor in tanks, not cars
Number 3 – we nearly end up in fisticuffs when he’s trying to teach me cribbage.
I think I’ll stick to my original plan and go with whoever’s cheap in Yellow Pages.

Hannah tells me she sent our mother a card for Mother’s Day. It was a folded piece of black card with ‘Please Don’t Ever Come Back’ written on it in silver. Touching, I thought. The whole Mother’s Day event hadn’t registered on my radar, which is a nice reminder of how little I think about the old soak now she’s gone. When I explained the situation to Donna, she said ‘Do you think you’ll ever miss her?’
My answer was that there are numerous other things I would miss before I ever started missing my mother. Such as my milk teeth.. being bullied at school.. IBS.. doing a paper round in the dark.. having wet dreams while asleep on the school bus.. knits..
Yeah, mums pretty far down the list, to be honest.

RC 25-3-09
0750 GMT

The Undiscovered Country

I’ve been spending some really interesting mornings with Borrowed Time Ted (my neighbour who has just come out of hospital). I always saw him as a wishy-washy, borderline Alzheimers kind of cat, but anyone who spent 21 years in the Army and was still fathering children in his fifties is bound to have some stories to share, and so it’s proving to be. He tells me the heart attack has made him appreciate the really decent things in life.. so he wants to start smoking his pipe again. He’s also trying to teach me to play cribbage, which might be more of a challenge than he realises. It seems to me you need a brain the size of a NASA computer, insanity levels on a par with Gazza and an extraordinary amount of spare time on your hands. None of which I have, or desire. Vengeance shall be mine however – next week I’m gonna try and teach him how to master Facebook. He may be able to kick my arse counting fifteen-one and all that shit, but let’s see him deal with the psycho stalking sad-sacks out in cyberspace.

Have you tried those new Marmite cheddar miniatures? The ones that look like Babybels dipped in black ink? If you haven’t, don’t bother – they taste like vomit. And not that pleasant, unbilious, cleansing vomit either, I mean that horrible, end of a 48-hour stomach bug, bringing-up-your-own-intestines acid vomit that sticks in your throat and makes your eyes water. Don’t buy ‘em.

RC 19-3-09
1109 GMT

For every up, there's a down..

I’ve been walking high on a cloud, buoyed by the forces of love… Donna has stolen my heart and given me purpose in life again. Due to our conflicting work schedules, we’ve only spent a small amount of time together, but maybe that’s a good thing, as it’s moving along at its own pace instead of being forced somewhere that it’s not ready to go.
Days when I know I am going to see her – even if it’s a fleeting glimpse through the library window on my way to the Greasy Spoon – my stomach churns delightfully with tension and excitement, and it’s nigh on impossible to keep a smile from my face.
She held my hand on the way to the pictures at the weekend, and I felt a charge shoot up my arm as if a Guantanamo Bay torturer had stuffed my fingers in a plug socket. Love is a wonderful thing, dear readers. Suddenly I feel as if the Credit Crunch is a mere annoyance; that the imminent destruction of our environment is something not to be fearful of; that the frequent battles with itchy haemorrhoids is something I can endure and overcome. I feel untouchable.
It has, however, already had negative consequences.. I was so lost in my own thoughts at work last night that I managed to ram my pallet truck full of frozen prawns into a Special Offer display stand full of salad cream. The whole lot smashed over and blocked the end of aisle 7 for an hour. It looked like a dolphin had been hit by an Exocet.
Happy St Patricks Day.

RC 17-3-09
1027 GMT

Appearances can be deceptive

The sun was shining brightly this morning as I prepared to leave work. I felt good. My shift had gone well, I had avoided the usual stoners, alcoholics and out-patients that tend to stalk the aisles in the wee, small hours, and I had just completed a hearty plate of scrambled eggs and beans on toast. I slung my bag playfully onto my shoulder and skipped gaily down the stairs, with a cheery ‘hello’ for any and all fellow employees who crossed my path. I was full of the joys, grinning like a Cheshire and looking forward to a gentle amble in the spring-like Wednesday Norfolk. I stepped outside into the car park and it was BLOODY FREEZING!!!
So much for Spring.

I’ve become quite chatty with one of the drivers on the bus route to work. (late night service E31, in case you were wondering.) He’s called Tony and he smoked roll-ups almost continually, which I’m pretty sure is illegal now when you’re driving a bus. He tells me he used to work in the City, but when his wife left him he decided to move up here and ‘do something different.’ His wife was his childhood sweetheart, who chose to spend their first five years of marriage getting jiggy with two of Tony’s mates, the postman and a trainee architect from Croydon. Tony says he’s forgiven her, but judging by the look in his eyes and the way he gripped the steering wheel when he spoke of her, I wouldn’t be walking near any E31 buses in the near future if I was her..

RC 11-3-09
1820 GMT

Favourites 2

I suddenly realised today that its only four weeks til Easter.. We’re booked to go and stay with Sophie and I haven’t yet asked for time off work. I checked the Online Employee Regulation Handbook section relating to holidays and it said “Notification of time to be spent away from work must be given 4-6 weeks prior to the commencement of said vacational period” or something..
I hastily printed off a request form, dated it last Friday, and popped in into a pile of stuff on Dave’s desk, hoping he’ll think its been sitting there for ages when he finds it. If not, I’ll just have to quit and go anyway. Having said that - according to the section pertaining to Employee Employment Termination Procedures I’m supposed to give them two months notice of resigning. They always get you one way or another don’t they?

A few more lists for your perusal…

ALL TIME FAVE TV SHOWS

The Simpsons
The West Wing
The Shield
The Muppets
The Raccoons
Question Time
Atom
Countdown
The Royal Institute Christmas Lectures
Planet Earth
Swarm

11 FAVOURITE SANDWICH FILLINGS

Brie and cranberry
Left-over turkey and stuffing
Cheddar and raw onion
Hard-boiled egg and ham (with mustard mayo)
Banana and apricot jam (toasted)
Bacon, sausage, fried egg and tomato
Cheddar and piccalilli
Silverside beef and Dijon
Fish fingers, cheddar and tartare
Tomato puree, black olives, parma ham and chorizo
Chips

8 Favourite Girls Names (based on personal experience)

Donna
Sarah
Cathy
Amanda
Tamara
Melanie
Frida
Pam

RC 10-3-09
2028 GMT

Best laid plans and all that..

My day was split in three parts today..
Part 1 = Hannah
My frighteningly immature older sister is behaving like a wayward 15-year-old. She came in from a party at two o’clock this morning and threw up red wine in the living room. I came down to find her kneeling in the puddle saying ‘Didn’t there used to a bath in this bathroom?’ I was tempted to rub her face in it, but didn’t. Instead I re-enacted countless nights with my mother and helped her up to bed before cleaning. Have you ever tried to get up red wine puke using Daz Fabric Softener and a kitchen mop? She owes me big and she’s gonna deliver..

Part 2 = Beryl

I got dressed as noisily as possible and then went round to see Beryl for a cuppa and a chat. Ted had a superficial myocardial infarction, which in the old days was called A HEART ATTACK!! It was only a mild one, by all accounts, so he could well be home by the end of the week, but under strict orders not to do anything silly, like re-tile the shed roof or breakdance down the high street in stilettos. Beryl asked if I would visit every couple of days so he could see a different face “besides my ugly old mug that’s he’s bored of after 30 years.” I told her I’d call round Friday.

Part 3 = Donna

I called her late morning and I could hear the smile in her voice when she answered. My day felt better immediately. I’m gonna stay in the city after work on Friday and take her out for lunch. Ah, shit – that’s the morning I’m supposed to sit with Ted and be cheerful. I’ll put that off til Saturday – its not as if he’ll be going anywhere…

RC 9-3-09
1907 GMT

Siren

There was an ambulance outside Beryl and Ted’s house this morning.
I’m not one to curtain twitch, but I couldn’t help seeing Ted wheeled out with an oxygen mask on. I hope it’s nothing serious. Partly because he’s lovely and I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering, but also because he tends to bore the arse off you talking about his medical problems and procedures. On Christmas Day, he gave me a two-hour detailed account of the way they checked his prostate for cancer, shortly before handing me a bowl of nuts and raisins. If he’s had a stroke or something we’ll be hearing about it for decades.
Reading that back, it sounds really harsh and horrible. I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just my way of dealing with things. Hit them head on with humour (and alliteration) and it saves you having to face facts and experience emotions. I’ve made a career of it.. When my gran died, I joked about tumours for months.
The truth is, I’ve become rather fond of our elderly opposite-neighbours. I’ve popped over a couple of times since Christmas for a cuppa, and to see if they need anything from the shop. Usually the answer is no, but I think they enjoy the visits, and it’s the least I can do after the fantastic Christmas Day they gave us.
I’ll nip round tomorrow and see if there’s anything we can do.

Seeing the two of them together made me think about long-term relationships, and the fact that I’ve never been in one. 25 years old and my record stint with a lady involved a cyberspace girlfriend that I never actually met. As soon as the library opens in the morning, I’m asking Donna out for a meal.

RC 8-3-09
2050 GMT

Weight, and wait

I’m the golden boy at work again. The management have been trying for months to get people to sign up for fund-raising events, to no avail. Just by telling them I’ll lose some weight and get paid for it I’m suddenly in everyone’s good books. The store manager, who has never actually spoken to me, spotted me in the canteen at breakfast and came over. (I was having four pork sausages, scrambled eggs and mushrooms. The diet can start Monday..) He said “Ches, great to hear that you’re looking to shed some pounds for a worthy cause. Putting others before yourself and doing it in a public way is fantastic. You’re just the kind of up-and-at-‘em type that we love in this company.” He gave me a nod that seemed to say ‘Learn to arse-kiss a bit more and stop abusing company facilities and you may just have a career here.’
I don’t want one, but it’s an improvement on the written warning they gave me last week.
Now if I can just convince them to stop calling me Ches it’ll all be fine and dandy.

I popped into the library to see Donna. She looked lovely. We couldn’t speak as she was showing an inept old man how to operate the computerised check-out system, but it was good to just cast my eye upon her. Simply seeing her fills me with a warm glow and makes me feel that the world and the future are both full of sparkling opportunities.
Who knows – I may ask her out on another date soon..

RC 5-3-09
2043 GMT

Post no.121

I’m back in the staff room at work, looking at a poster that scares me. It’s a list of upcoming fund-raising events being planned by employees to raise money for the supermarkets chosen charity for 2009 (which is something that supports ill children.) It’s not the poster itself that scares me, but the fact that written in my handwriting at the bottom it clearly says “Rory Chesworth – Sponsored Weight Loss. Target weight loss = 3 stones”
I’m now in the process of setting up a ‘justgiving’ webpage, and wondering what the hell possessed me to have the idea in the first place. Maybe a possibly approaching romance has provoked me to think more about my current physical appearance, or maybe I’m just sick of nearly passing out every time I climb up the stairs to the toilet. The management are all very supportive. It turns out that full-time employment here entitles me to half-price membership at some ghastly Health Centre nearby, and Line Manager Dave has already offered to introduce me to his personal trainer. I told him I wanted to shift some fat, not muscle up like some Arnie-obsessed wanker in a leotard, but thanks anyway. He didn’t laugh. He just stared at me looking as disappointed as a girl that wrote to Santa for a Barbie bike and woke up Christmas morning to a toothpick. I think I may have poured more cold water onto an already frosty relationship, but its hard not to be honest when its 1am and you’re tired.

RC 5-3-09
0142 GMT

March's first blog

Or – “How Saturday nights film inspired me to plot a revolution against my boss”
Valkyrie was good fun. Complete bollocks historically speaking, but nicely made and performed.
It also gave me some tips on how to oust my manager from his position of power and earn myself a wage-improving promotion in the process. Plotting his death may be a bit less effective than working hard and applying for the position when it arises, but I like to think outside the box when I can, and I hope he’ll appreciate my ingenuity. Just before I blow him to smithereens in the pet food aisle.

On a more important topic – the date wasn’t as totally disastrous as my nervous mind had convinced me it would be. Donna was as nice in a cinema as she is in a library, and the smile she uses when relaxed could melt the heart of an igloo-dwelling snowbeast. She seemed almost as nervous as I was – which is probably a good sign – and kept telling me how infrequently she has been on dates, which to me means one of two things. Either she has been saving herself romantically for the right man to come along, so I don’t have to worry about the damage caused by previous beaus, or she’s been in a long-running but awful relationship which has scarred her forever and given her huge amounts of rage and hatred, all of which will be taken out on her next unfortunate boyfriend.
I look forward to finding out which is true.

RC 2-3-09
1223 GMT