Wash my ears out..

I overheard this at work last night…
A man and his wife walking around the alcohol aisle, obviously picking out a bottle of pre-coitus wine, and obviously mistaking me for a fixing that was deaf:
HIM to HER: “If I shave tonight, can I snorkel your fanny?”
Sometimes I wish I had a gun.

RC 30-10-09

Mix and Match

Jared and I were teamed up at work last night for the first time in ages, so I got to find out why he’s on his final warning. Apparently he told a customer to ‘get her fat, ugly arse out of the way’ when he was trying to stock up some washing powder. He must be a nightmare employee if you’re his manager, but he’s a joy to work with as a colleague. He regaled me with his latest imaginary exploits and I found myself laughing til I shook. I felt really weird, and I thought I might be getting a cold or something, and then I realized – it’s the first time I’ve been at work without a cloud above my head for ages, and the first time in months that I’ve actually found myself laughing. Maybe the pills are working already.

I managed to get a version of Computer Chess from a charity shop for 25p today! I loaded it up with furtive anticipation thinking this was my chance to play and learn, in preparation of my next encounter with Ted. I set it to ‘Beginner – Level 1’ chilled a bottle of pop in readiness of my victory, and it beat me five moves quicker than Ted did on Sunday. The disk is now in three pieces in the bin. Next time Ted and I are due to play, I’m going to send my computer over and I’ll stay home and watch ‘Neighbours’ instead.

Oh by the way, have you heard? Apparently Gordon Ramsay bathes in goats milk..

RC 29-10-09

Rumours

I’m thinking of conducting a little social/psychological experiment. I’m going to start a rumour online, and I’m going to see how long it takes to become accepted as regular wisdom. There may be some cultural significance to the findings, or maybe it’ll just be something for my own amusement, but either way I’d like some help deciding what the rumour itself should be. Which of the following, in your opinion, is the most ludicrous and therefore the most likely to be believable to the unwashed, unthinking masses?

“Vernon Kay is Prince Charles’ son.”
“Margaret Beckett is an alien”
“Andrew Lloyd Webber died in 1974 and his appearances since have been filled by his waxwork dummy from Tussaud’s”
“Roquefort isn’t really cheese – it’s an elaborate kind of soup.”
“Women are genetically unable to lick stamps properly.”
“Bathrooms with tiled walls instead of painted ones are four times more likely to be invaded by moths.”
“If you carry a spoon, you can’t get dementia.”
“Eating an apple every day increases your chances of impotence.”
“Homosexuals make the best astronauts.”
“Sammy Davis Jr invented the spatula”

Let me know your thoughts..

RC 28-10-09

Results

The doctor has suggested a brief course of antidepressants (or ‘uppers’ as my serial-addiction Uncle Tom used to call them) He also asked if I might benefit from seeing a counselor. ‘Is there any particular aspect of your life that you think may be causing your depression?’ he asked. I thought “My dad pissed off when I was only a child, my mum is an uncaring alcoholic who could be dead for all I know, I’m unable to convince anyone to love me, I haven’t had a decent day since uni, my education is going to waste as I fester and rot as a shelf-filler and my sister keeps polluting our home with a succession of pot-smoking unwashed no-marks who steal all my food and use my flannel instead of toilet paper. Apart from that it’s all sun and roses.” Instead I said “I’ll think about it.”
It wasn’t Dr Kozhliak, by the way. Apparently he’s back in Poland after a family crisis or something, so I had to meet the rather pleasant Dr Brown. He looks like Barry White, sounds like Muhammad Ali and has stolen Elton John’s glasses. Nice bloke, though. He’s put me on something called Fluoxetine, which he feels may ‘lighten my mood’ and help me ‘get back on your feet emotionally.’ Time will tell, I guess.
In other news, Jared and Mandy the Monster are both on a final warning at work. The rumour is they were caught inflagrenti in the cold store, but I’m not sure that’s true. Or maybe I’m just hoping it isn’t – the thought of those two being sexually active around food is enough to put you off your meals forever.

RC 27-10-09

Chain of thought

Nathan took Hannah to see some film or other yesterday. He paid for her ticket and bought her sweets and everything. I can’t believe she always gets her men to spend time with her away from the bedroom. In my relationships, women never want to be seen with me in public. I may have to ask her how she does it. Jesus, I’m considering asking my younger slag of a sister for advice on successful relationships. I think I may have hit a new low..

‘A new low’ makes me think of my weight. The good thing about feeling down is that my appetite has disappeared. In the old days I used to ‘comfort eat’ and fight my way past the blues by consuming a chocolate mountain the size of Kilimanjaro, but I’m so determined not to ruin my diet that I’ve gone completely the other way and I’m eating less than Gandhi on a protest. You see - there is always an up side when you’re down.. I may be near suicidal and permanently close to tears, but at least I’m getting thinner while I’m doing it. Unfortunately, wherever my appetite has disappeared to, it’s taken my libido with it.

I’m at the doctors tomorrow. I may ask him if I can have a couple of weeks off work. The internet tells me work stress is quite often a contributor to depression. Mind you, the internet also tells me I can get my penis enlarged for a fiver and that Stan Laurel’s dad is Clint Eastwood, so time for a pinch of salt I think.

RC 26-10-09

PM2

I've thought of a few more laws I would pass if I got elected Prime Minister:

- Anyone over 50 will be banned from driving in Norfolk.
- No-one from 'Dragon's Den' will ever be allowed to star in an advert in which they say "I'm in" or "Let me tell you where I am." If they do, they will be exiled and declared bankrupt.
- We'll get all the rain we need, but it will fall only between the hours of 1 - 5am
- Any company that starts their Christmas adverts in October will be shut down and forced to give all their money to charity.
. And a (fairly) serious one to end with - I would change the rules governing the National Lottery so that each of the following would apply:
a) The company running it can never make any money from it.
b) Politicians can never have a say in where and how any generated funds are spent.
c) No-one is allowed to spend more than £10 a week on tickets
d) Retired people will get a bonus in their pension if they don't waste their money on scratchcards.

RC 24-10-09

Here we go again..

Hannah has a new boyfriend. I think that’s the sixth this year. One day I will have to sit her down and point out the difference between ‘boyfriend’ and ‘shagpiece.’ Unusually for Hannah, she seems to have found someone quite pleasant. He dresses well, appears to be free of tattoos, and was able to have a fairly coherent conversation with me without sniffing, scratching his balls or lighting a suspiciously fruity roll-up. Another plus point is that he’s called Nathan. Most of Hannah’s conquests have nicknames that make them sound like rapists, or are named after some kind of insect. I think he may have said his full name is Nathaniel but I may have mis-heard as I wasn’t really paying attention. I have this automatic switch-off device that kicks in when I’m meeting my sister’s bedfriends. There’s normally only a token five-minute ‘get-to-know-you-briefly’ chat before they disappear upstairs and I have to hear them rutting for the next two hours or so. With the benefit of experience, I find it best not to get too heavily involved with them. If only Hannah could say the same thing.

Hey, maybe I’m just jealous. My only sexual encounters seem to be sympathy shags from fat girls and one-night stands with very drunk women who wake up beside me and look horrified.

RC 23-10-09

Beaten

I’ve made an appointment to see my doctor early next week. I’m thinking I may have depression. I know everyone has days when you don’t feel like getting out of bed, but when it actually takes you 4 hours to get your feet on the floor, then maybe it’s time to get help.
I’ve always had ups and downs in my life, but this is something else. Everytime I feel like I’m on my way up and out of the hole, I start slipping down the slope into darkness again. For every positive thought or action, there’s immediately a negative, defeatist thought that pops in my head and clouds it. It’s as if my mind is trying to stop me from functioning.

That’s probably why Ted kicked my arse again at chess today. I think I moved seven pieces before he triumphantly chanted “Check mate!” Bastard. He told me he set me up with a Tyrolean opening before swooping on my King with his Bishops. I told him he was full of shit and just got lucky, but secretly I think he’s a wily old buffer who is playing mind games with me, and winning. But fear not – I’ve bought myself a ‘Teach Yourself Chess’ book and his arse, one day soon, will be mine.

RC 22-10-09

The Darker Side Of Night

I finish work in darkness now. Back in June and July it was still light enough to read when I got there at 9.30pm, and getting light again well before I clocked off at 6am. Now it’s dark well before I get there, and still dark for an hour after I finish. No wonder people get depressed.

RC 21-10-09

Playing

I had a game of chess with Ted today. Beryl is convinced that he’s a sociopathic alcoholic (she reads the Daily Mail remember) and has been told he needs new hobbies to stop him sitting around the house moaning and drinking. So off she went to a car boot and bought him a child-size guitar with only three strings, a ‘Teach Yourself Holiday Spanish’ book and a battered old wooden chess set. She’s hoping that might be enough to see him through Winter without boredom and whiskey. He rejected the first two ideas out of hand, but was surprisingly cheerful and welcoming about the chess set. It turns out he used to play quite a bit in the Army, so he’s offered to teach me all his moves in return for having someone to play with. It’s a shame they didn’t play poker in the forces really, I’d rather be learning something I can win money at.. But never-the-less, it’s a fascinating game and I’m hoping our twice-weekly sessions may help me through my own bout of current depression. I’ve ordered a few books from the library that should give me some tips and help me improve. Most of the ‘Grand Masters’ I’ve looked at online seem to be seriously disturbed and suffering from nine different OCD conditions, but I don’t think I’m looking to play to that level. If I can learn enough to beat my elderly neighbour into tearful submission that’ll be enough for one year.

RC 20-10-09

Real, surreal or unreal? (3rd of 3)

Off to work again, then. Do you ever have those times when your home life just feels like a fuzzy dream, and you only seem to register reality when it’s time to get ready for work? My long sleep yesterday was wonderful, but I’ve been wide awake all day and now I have an 8-hour shift to survive. I’ll dip straight into bed when I get home in the morning and hopefully that’ll get me right back on track.
Roll on January..

RC 19-10-09

PM (2nd of 3)

When I’m Prime Minister, these are the laws I will instantly pass..

Anyone trying to buy a BMW is automatically electrocuted.
Anyone who says climate change is a fallacy should be punched in the face until they change their mind.
Fat women should be banned from wearing tight trousers.
Anyone who is ‘surgically enhanced’ should be force-fed chip fat and made to sleep in an ice bath.
I should be allowed to eat whatever I like without having to worry about weight gain.

Best laid plans (1st of 3)

It all went wrong yesterday. I fell asleep. I was halfway through a hot chocolate and an episode of ‘Lost’ when my body caved in and surrendered to tiredness. I had 11-and-a-half hours sleep and woke up this morning feeling much more cheerful and optimistic. Maybe my week-long battle with depression was down to tired irritability rather than SAD or mental instability. Since being in Edinburgh, after all, I’ve been looking forward to leaving work, and started to adjust my life accordingly. Then last week I agreed to stay on til December, but didn’t change my eating and sleeping pattern back, and understandably suffered. So I’m going to get my sensible head back on and start living in relation to my working hours again. I only have to ride it out for the rest of the year, after all, and then I’m free, like library membership, or the items that frequently fall in my bag while I’m working.
Yesterday’s blog-related challenge is therefore carried over to today. Three different entries, starting with this one.
Until later, then….

18-10-09

What a life. I've just been wallowing around at home being down and grumpy. I can't even say I've been feeling sorry for myself, because that would have taken too much effort. I've just been drifting along in a kind of emotional neutrality. I just keep thinking "If I'd quit work already, I could be in bed by now."
Anyway, I'm here now and that's what counts, I suppose. I'm setting myself a challenge to post three different blog entries today, of which this is the first. I'm hoping it will help kick-start me back into the habit of writing something everyday, but we'll see. Most of last week, it was hard enough to drag myself out of bed to urinate, much less do anything else. But I'm really going to try. I need something to aim for and achieve or I'll probably spend all day on the sofa watching Channel 5, which can never be a good thing for anyone.

RC

1st (blog) of October

Well….
My replacement didn’t last long at work. After his induction on the first night he spent half a shift following me around, then on the second night we worked in tandem. Then halfway through our shift on Day 3 he handed his apron to me and said “I don’t think I can do this every night. I’d rather go back to sticking labels on envelopes for my uncle. At least I get to sit down.” And with that, he was gone. He didn’t even hang around for a goodbye chat. Shame really, I was going to ask if his uncle needed any more staff – I liked the sound of that label job.
The management were disgusted with his behavior and went off to The Meeting Room to discuss what they could do about it. Three and a half hours later they emerged with the answer – nothing. Dave is apparently looking into the legal standing involved when someone quits with immediate effect when they haven’t yet started their trial period to see if they can force him to work notice.. I mean really, would you bother?
The upshot is they’ve asked me to put off my finish date and I said yes. For sanity purposes I should have refused, but I’ve been a bit pre-occupied this week with something that I might share with you tomorrow, so I just thought “Sod it – take their money. It’s only another eight weeks then I’m free to enjoy daylight like normal people.”

Beryl is back in with Ted. I haven’t seen him yet for a catch-up, but there’s been no eardrum-shattering arguments in the street, and I haven’t seen him sneak outside for a roll-up, so maybe all is rosy so far. Young love, eh?

RC 9-10-09