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New Year is coming
My sister is moving back
And I am happy
The end of a year
Through a blur of work and love
I survived again!
Two thousand and twelve:
Twelve months of awful weather
and some house-sitting
Review of the year:
The Olympics came and went
and it rained a lot
Happy New Year all
May your life be as happy
as a pig in shit
RC 31-12-12
1315 GMT
I am somehow not working tomorrow, and Philippa’s sports club have a rather large party planned for tonight. So I am going to get incredibly drunk, and I fully intend to start 2013 by being violently sick in a hedge somewhere…
RC 31-12-12
0815 GMT
We had a punch-up at work the other day. Someone was trying to help themselves to a packet of cut-price chocolates and got shoved in the back by a disgruntled husband who was unhappily being dragged round the aisles by his wife. The One Who Was Pushed reacted by saying "If you want these biscuits that much you can have 'em mate" and slapped him across the face with the packet, and next thing you knew it was like 1am outside a nightclub.
Stuff got damaged, the police were called, and it all got a bit unsavoury really.
I was delighted, I have to be honest. As the nearest member of the management team to the incident I had to fill out all the paperwork, which kept me in the office and away from the shopfloor for most of the afternoon and evening. I may start paying people to come in and cause trouble on all my shifts - then I can spend all my filling in forms and might never have to face the public again!
Christmas was very nice, but a bit unexciting. Most of our celebrations will come later on when Sophie and Tamara move nearby and we all have a belated Christmas all together. Philippa and I enjoyed The Big Day alone in our Big House. I overcooked the sprouts and made them like bullets but apart from that it was all very pleasant.
I can only hope that your Christmas Day was as relaxed as mine, and I shall leave it there for now..
RC 29-12-12
Work - finished.
Shopping - done.
Wine - poured.
Food - delivered.
Life - good.
Have a fantastic Christmas, my friends. I’ll see you on The Other Side Of The Madness..
RC 23-12-12
Now Philippa wants to be pregnant before her 30th birthday.
Here I am struggling to survive work until Xmas and she’s busy planning the rest of our lives..
RC 22-12-12
Philippa wants to get married on my 30th birthday.
She says we should book the date now (January 2014) and then take our time thinking about what to do with it. I already know what I want to do with it - get drunk for my birthday and wake up somewhere with a hangover; and preferably still single.
RC 22-12-12
I’ve finished all my Christmas shopping!
I sat up until 2am this morning, cutting off labels and disguising things and wrapping them up and hiding them. I also ordered all our groceries and they’re being delivered on Sunday. I did the whole thing online and the website kept freezing but I persevered and survived despite it‘s best efforts to break me. I’m tired now, but I’m very glad it’s all done and dusted. The next few days at work are going to be hell with a capital H-E-L-L, so the last thing I needed was the threat of having to panic-buy last-minute presents hanging over me. I’m not convinced everyone will like what I’ve got them but I can’t worry about that now. And I’m sorry if that sounds un-Christmassy but sod it. I’ve been hearing “Fairytale of New York” seven times a day for a month now and it’s pushing me towards The Samaritans….
RC 20-12-12
I’m still in Haemorrhoid Hell.
I haven’t checked up my arse with a mirror, but I bet it looks like a burst red grapefruit.
I called NHS Direct for some advice today. The lady said “I know it can be uncomfortable, but as long as you’re not passing blood there’s no need to worry..”
I said “How long can this go on for?”
She said “They normally clear up within two weeks”
I said “Jesus, I can’t take this for another fortnight…”
To distract myself from the horror, I’ve written a Christmas poem:
Philippa and me
and a Christmas tree
That’s how perfect life can be
Swapping gifts
and a mistletoe kiss
Life doesn’t get much better than this
A walk in the snow
A Christmas glow
and fat men shouting “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
A Winter cheer
A glass of beer
and me standing up all day to alleviate the pain up my arse because it feels like I’ve been raped by a bear..
Damn it, I was doing so well…
RC 18-12-12
Feels like a tumour
Hard to believe it’s only
ruptured blood vessels
Why are they called piles?
Coz they fill your body with
Piles of agony
Swollen veins like grapes
Internally, painfully
causing Rory grief
Philippa is great
But my real love right now is
Preparation H
Christmas is coming
All I want from Santa Claus
is a pain-free arse
So much discomfort
Feels like a big-booted thug
Kicked me in the hole
Each toilet visit
Is like passing razor blades
Or shitting acid
RC 17-12-12
I did a poo this morning that was like someone pulling barbed wire out of my arse. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that haemorrhoids are a minor condition.
In more pleasant news - we had a nice afternoon with Ted and Beryl today. Beryl was doing one of her pre-Christmas new-food-project try-outs. She did some grilled mushrooms with a port and stilton sauce and I swear to God it’s the nicest thing I’ve ever tasted…
Things will be a bit different this year as they’re not holding their usual big family party on Christmas Day. They’re away visiting relatives ‘while we can still get about alright’ so Philippa and I have decided to have the big day at home alone. I know it goes against the traditional concept of what Xmas should be - (surrounding yourselves with family and pissing each other off, as far as I can see) - but we’re looking forward to it. We did invite Nathan and Hannah over for the evening but they’re doing religious things, so stuff ‘em. Tom is planning to have a massive do at his on New Year’s Day so we’ll be there for that, and apart from that I’m mostly working. Bastards. Our supermarkets slogan should be “We’re killing Christmas for our over-worked staff…“
Festive cheer is not snowing deep in Roryland this year, as you may have noticed…..
RC 16-12-12
I haven’t been cycling for months and I’ve still ended up with haemorrhoids. Apparently once you’ve had them once you have a weakness in your anus that can be re-aggravated by poor diet or straining on the bog or even cold weather. I don’t understand it exactly but I can certainly tell you it’s painful. It feels like I’ve got a rhino up my arse.
I read my Employee Handbook and piles aren’t listed on the chart of acceptable medical reasons for missing work - even if they are the size of grapefruit and hanging out of my arse-crack like baubles on a Christmas tree. I still might call in sick though. These beggars are itchy, and if I stand on the supermarket floor scratching my hole with a biro they’d soon send me home, I’m sure.
Oh well - back to the comfy cushion.
RC 15-12-12
I wanted to throw a party today and get drunk.
I’d misread all the crap about the Apocalypse and thought the Mayans had predicted the world would end on 12/12/12. I sat up until midnight waiting for the sky to fall in and once it became the 13th December I felt calm enough to go to sleep without the fear of waking up dead..
So this morning I asked Philippa if we could have a party to celebrate being alive and she said “You’re a week early, sweetness, the Mayan End-Of-The-World in on the 21st, not the 12th”
Great - now I have to face another week of fear and dread and runny nerve-shits.
RC 13-12-12
We went to the football last night. It was foggy, then it was boring, then Norwich lost 4-1 and everyone went home early. I’ve been told I’m a bad omen and I’m never allowed to go again, which is fine by me.
I was late for work today because TheLoveMachine span on some black ice and skidded into the hedge. No damage to car or driver but I was a bit shaken up so I took my time driving the rest of the way. I was supposed to be there in time to meet the delivery trucks but someone else had to do it, so I got hauled into the office for a bollocking. I thanked them for their sympathy and understanding and was told “If you know the weather’s bad you should make sure you leave early” I asked them if they would have paid me for the extra journey time and they told me to leave the office before I talked myself into more trouble. Our relationship is disintegrating quicker than a cube of sugar in a hot cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee, I’ve bought Ted and Beryl a rather posh coffee maker as a Christmas present. And also speaking of coffee, I am going to go now and put on the kettle for the purposes of making that very hot beverage of which I speak.
RC 12-12-12
December the eighth..
Seventeen more days until..
SEXY CHRISTMAS DAY!
Work is busy now
But I just switch off my mind
And dream of a beach
If it was Summer
I would be cycling daily
But now I just drive
If Father Christmas
Fancies taking a year off
I’d take the job on!
When I was little
Christmas was about mum’s drink
And her awful men..
Philippa and I
Celebrate two years of love
On this Christmas Eve!
I’d like it to snow
It makes it feel more festive
And I can skive work!
RC 8-12-12
Just three weeks and then the awful Christmas supermarket rush will be over….
Meanwhile, I am continuing to press my case for having every Tuesday off in early 2013 so I can attend a course. Graham said “Speak to me about it in January” I said “That’s no good, the course starts in January, I need to know this week.” He said “Talk to me in January.” I do love our one-way conversations; it’s almost like we’re married.
I think I’ve been remiss and not actually told you what the course I’ve signed up for is, have I? If you’re Graham, or someone else who knows me from the supermarket, it’s called “Modern Day Big Business and How You Can Work Within It” For everyone else - it’s called “Self-Confident Self-Employment - Everything You Need To Know To Start Working On Your Own”
It’s Tuesday evenings only from January until June. I can’t bear the thought being at the supermarket for the next 6 months, so I’m still looking for other potential employers in the meantime. I’ve got a few things I’d like to aim for in the New Year. Armed with advice from Sophie and Tamara, I’m still thinking about trying my hand at some care work. I know it’s not for everyone, but it can’t be worse than what I’m doing right now, can it? Given the choice, I’d rather be wiping people’s arses than directing them to the soup aisle.
RC 7-12-12
We have a bizarre night out planned next Tuesday and I’m not sure whether to look forward to it or dread it.
Tom (remember Tom? Philippa’s uncle? My old boss? ‘The Wallpaper King Of North Norfolk’???) has managed to get an executive box at Norwich City for their big cup match against Aston Villa. I don’t know which ‘big cup’ it is and I don’t know anything about ‘Aston Villa’ but apparently it’s Norwich’s biggest match for about eight years and Philippa is very excited to be going. I’m not sharing the excitement to be honest. Sitting in a 30-feet square room with an insane family while 25,000 drunks watch 22 men run around a lawn doesn’t fill me with any positive emotion at all. Mind you, there’s a free buffet and unlimited coffee so it might be worth showing up for a while. Philippa suggested we ‘make an occasion of it’ and book a hotel in the City. She said it would be a nice ‘pre-Christmas treat’ Unfortunately my kindly schedulers at work have got me starting Wednesday morning at 7, so that’s the end of that. My list of reasons for finding new employers is growing by the day…
RC 6-12-12
Just for a change, I’m thinking of lying to work.
I’ve found a course that I’d like to do at a local college. It’s only one evening a week, for three hours, but obviously my ’management shift pattern’ means that I’m guaranteed to be working at least one Tuesday evening a month so I’d miss quite a few of the lessons. If, however, I can convince work that the course itself would be beneficial to my future achievements within the corporation management structure, then they might be prepared to grant me every Tuesday off. The course starts in January so I need to get a move-on really. Trouble is, with Christmas speeding around the corner like an out-of-control juggernaut it’s hard to pin my superiors down long enough to chat to them. They’re far too busy having inter-departmental conflabs or video-conference-calls with their district-wide counterparts or having slap-up five-star meals at which they briefly discuss Christmas order deadlines to speak to the likes of me. Maybe I’ll swear at another customer tomorrow. I imagine Graham would want to see me pretty sharpish then, and I could mention having Tuesdays off during the disciplinary..
RC 5-12-12
Three strange things I’ve noticed about myself this week:
1) I am watching Jamie Oliver’s new show ‘15-Minute Meals’ without wanting to kill him or punch the television.
2) I am seriously considering a change in career path, and not just because I’m fed up with the supermarket, but because I genuinely want to find something I’m good at.
3) I’ve discovered the joy of just staying in on the sofa, cuddled up to the girl of my dreams. For the first time in my life, I am enjoying Greenwich Mean Time, and hoping Spring takes a long time to get here.
Odd……
RC 4-12-12
It’s December tomorrow!
I feel much more excited about things now. I’ve realised that my work-based misery has been spilling over into non-work time, and that’s horrible for Philippa, and probably not good for my health.
So, in the words of an awful car sticker, I’ve decided to ‘turn my frown upside down’ and skip through life with an attitude of positivity, rather than an aura of despair. So today I’m going to help myself to a load of cheap Christmas tat from work, and tomorrow we’re going to go mad decorating the house.
I’m particularly looking forward to doing the bedroom. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex on a bed full of tinsel and fairy lights before, and it’s about time that changed.
RC 30-11-12
MY ALL-TIME TOP 10 XMAS SONGS
10. Stop the Cavalry by Jona Lewie
9. In The Bleak Midwinter
8. In Dulce Jubilo by Mike Oldfield
7. Once in Royal David’s City
6. Christmas Lights by Coldplay
5. The Christmas Song by Nat King Cole
4. Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (Springsteen version)
3. Let It Snow by Dean Martin
2. Little Donkey
1. Last Christmas by Wham (only because Philippa and I shared our first kiss while it was playing….)
MY MOST HATED XMAS SONGS
Wonderful Christmastime by Paul Mcartney
Anything by Michael Buble
MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE XMAS VIEWING
“It’s A Wonderful Life”
“The Box of Delights”
“Blackadder’s Christmas Carol”
“Only Fools and Horses” (the one where they became millionaires, which made a perfect end to the series, only for them to bring it back a few years later when the writer ran out of money, because his sitcom about taxi drivers was shit)
ONE WORD I’M TRYING TO FIND A RHYME FOR SO I CAN FINISH MY XMAS POEM
Nutmeg
RC 28-11-12
Philippa wants to put up Christmas decorations at home this weekend.
I’m not keen. I think I’ve had my enthusiasm beaten out of me at work as I’ve been drowning in tinsel for a month already. I tried to use the fact that we’re house-sitting as an excuse not to do it, but apparently Philippa has swapped e-mails with Becky and she’s keen for us to go ahead. As long as we don’t get a real tree, and as long as we put everything back where it should be in January, we’ve been told to ‘go nuts and do what we like!’
I’m sure I’ll love it once it’s done, but right now it feels like a big job that I’m really unenthusiastic about but have to do anyway. Actually that sounds like most of my days at the supermarket….
RC 27-11-12
We had a morning in bed, and then lunch with Ted and Beryl. He was on good form, but she’d banged her leg while out shopping and had a horrible purple bruise on her ankle. She still did all the work in the kitchen though. Well not everything: to be fair to Ted he did fill up the sugar bowl..
RC 25-11-12
Yesterday morning was lovely. Philippa and I had a long cuddle, and then a long chat about work. I really do love her. I was completely honest about work and she said “I’d rather you did something you enjoy, even if you earn less money. I’d rather have regular time with you when you’re happy, than snatch occasional hours with you miserable, which, by the way, you’ve been for ages” That wasn’t exactly how she put it, but that’ll have to do. It was rather a long conversation and I wasn’t taking notes. Anyway - knowing I have her backing and permission to go ahead and look for something new has made the act of going into the supermarket much easier. I did a late finish last night and an early start this morning but I sailed through it thinking “I don’t have to do this much longer, so I can just ride it out and not let it stress me” I wasn’t even bothered by the fat bird in a tracksuit moaning about the price of bananas. This time last week I’d have wanted to punch her face in.
I’m off tomorrow, so we’re going to sit up late tonight watching ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Parts 1 & 2’ back-to-back. I think we’ll be finished about 5am on Tuesday.
RC 24-11-12
TheLoveMachine has risen from the grave!
I didn’t understand half of what Jim at the garage told me, but a bit of the engine needed replacing and she had to have a bit of a clean-up, and all-in-all it cost me £120. That’s not bad for a full days fix-up, and she now sounds better than she has for months. Jim said “If you treat this old bus with care, I bet she’ll keep you going for years, chap” I don’t really have a clue about these things so I just said “Cheers mate, I’ll bring her back in for a service” and that was that. Later on I shall look up what ‘a service’ actually involves and see if it might be worth considering.
Work continues to drag me into depression. Christmas is looming over the horizon like a fat girl chasing after chocolate and we’re all supposed to ‘up our game’ to ‘maximise in-store profit margins’
I really can’t be arsed.
In my opinion, we’ve all worked hard all year, and the company is making billions, so we should be allowed to slow down a bit as we approach the years end and get to enjoy a relaxed Christmas break with our loved ones. Is that likely to happen? Of course not. Company policy is to work it’s staff to death, then bring them back to life so they can work a bit more and eke yet a few more pennies out of poor Joe Public. Philippa gets quite a nice break after Christmas but will we get to enjoy it? No - she’ll be pigging out on snacks alone at home while I deal with another rush of customers on Boxing Day.
That care work course application pack I got through the post on Friday is looking more attractive by the second…
Philippa and I have both got tomorrow morning free, so we’ve planned to stay in bed. My work shifts have been all over the place recently but the Gods have finally granted us some cuddling time. Philippa is taking the morning off and says she ’can’t wait to get re-acquainted.’ Yum, yum and yummy.
RC 22-11-12
I think TheLoveMachine has died.
It’s been a bit of a bitch to start for weeks now, ever since the weather got colder. Then this morning it made a sound like a robot juggling chainsaws and smoke came pouring out of the back. I managed to get her as far as ‘Jim and Dougie’s’ garage before she stalled so I thought I’d better leave her there and catch the bus. Neither Jim nor Dougie looked particularly trustworthy but what could I do? Providence had placed me on their doorstep so it felt foolish to slap it in the face. At least I hadn’t conked out near a Pizza Hut or something.
Now I am at work, awaiting their call. Jim said it would be one of three options - something simple, something expensive, or something terminal. He said he’d let me know by 5pm. I feel like a condemned man waiting for the gallows. My chest is tight and stomach is gurgling and I can almost taste vomit in my throat. Mind you, that might be from the bus journey…
RC 21-11-12
I’m not sure how many more days I can endure panic-buying pensioners in the supermarket before running one of them over with a pallet truck. Some stupid old biddy actually snatched stuff out of my hand today before I even had a chance to get it near the shelf. I said “calm down, love, it’s not as if there’s a queue”
She said “It’s alright for you - you work here. The rest of us have to fight for what we can get.”
Being the kind of person who can’t let these things go I said “We’ve got a warehouse full, sweetheart, and there’s still five weeks until Christmas.“
She put her face as close to mine as she could and said “And what if we get snowed in??“
I resisted the urge to shout “THIS IS NORFOLK, NOT NORWAY” and smiled and handed her the radishes. I’m not sure what it is about our supermarket but we seem to attract the grumpiest, most malignant people in Britain.
And I’ll tell you something else that pisses me off - people who respond to my lethargy and nonchalance by saying “Cheer up - it’s nearly Christmas!”
Humbug, and harrumph.
RC 20-11-12
The eleventh month
Is already halfway through
Where does the time go?
Peaches and ice cream
Is my new breakfast of choice
Unhealthy? SO WHAT!?!
Should I do care work?
Is wiping people’s arses
Better than store work?
It’s nearly Christmas.
What can I get Philippa,
to express my love?
I love fish and chips
Loads of vinegar and salt
and tomato sauce
Santa Claus is fat.
Should we really see him as
a hero for kids?
Bob Dylan is weird.
His voice sounds like a robot
choking on gravel
RC 19-11-12
We’ve been given our schedules for Christmas and I’m working every sodding day from Boxing Day until New Year’s Eve. Bastards. Can’t their cash-obsessed world of commercialism take a back seat for a few days so I can celebrate an important Christian festival by getting pissed and spending days in bed with Philippa? Would that be so bad?
Bloody capitalist pig-dogs.
They better be prepared for a lot of ‘Rory with flu’ time in January..
RC 15-11-12
After yesterday’s revelation that Nathan knew nothing about ‘Revolver’ by The Beatles, I wasted some time at work today thinking of other things that shared names, but didn’t share the same value. Understand? No, me neither, but here’s the list:
“TITANIC” - Ultra-successful film; non-successful boat
“CLIFF” - beautiful landscape feature; terrible singer
“SCHOOL“ - lovely gathering of fish; horrible place to spend childhood
“HEART” - Vital internal organ; over-rated girl group
“HOUSE” - entertaining TV show; expensive building to live in
“GOLD” - shiny, pricey metal; whiny, 80s pop-shit
“JORDAN” - Beautiful (if troubled) country; Unbeautiful (and troublemaking) slut
And before you write and complain, I know they’re not technically ‘misnomers’ but who cares? Really?
RC 13-11-12
I’m trying to educate Nathan about The Beatles. This is the result of a conversation yesterday that left me frankly flabbergasted.
He was telling me about a new member of the congregation at his church. He recently moved to the area and they don’t know much about him but Nathan is convinced he must be a decent bloke “because he’s called Peter”
I said “What difference does that make?”
He said “St Peter is one of the most righteous men in history. Remember your Bible, Rory? Peter was one of the disciples, and was just and true.”
Suppressing all my anti-religion feelings to concentrate on the matter in hand I said “Well that doesn’t mean anything. Just because they’ve got the same name doesn’t mean they’ll be the same kind of person. Things with the same name can be completely different. Look at the name ‘revolver’ - it’s an absolutely brilliant album but an absolutely terrible film.”
Nathan stared at me blankly.
I said “Please tell me you know that there’s an album called ‘revolver’?”
He didn’t.
But he will by the end of this week.
We may have our different views on things, and I may have to bite my tongue whenever he starts to talk about Jesus, but I’ll be damned before I’ll let him get through life without The Beatles…..
RC 12-11-12
Philippa has a bit of a thing for Novak Djokovic. She made a little throw-away comment when we were watching the tennis on the telly and I reacted to it in my well-established paranoid over-jealous way, then she got a bit defensive about it but couldn’t stop blushing. She tried to backtrack but it was too late - the Croatian cat is out of the bag.
Being jealous and obsessive I decided to look him up online to find out exactly what it is that Novak has got that I haven’t got. Here are just a few of the answers:
Money
Fame
Fitness
Titles
Gluten intolerance
RC 9-11-12
Barack Obama
Is still President after
kicking Romney’s arse
I don’t like James Bond
But even I must admit
Daniel Craig looks HOT!
Call me a perv, but..
My favourite sandwiches
Are cheese and marmite
Christmas is coming
Our shelves at work are stuffed full
Of Christmas puddings
“Let It Be” is good
But The Beatles best album
Must be “Revolver”
RC 8-11-12
Work went off without a hitch yesterday. Quite a few people are off with chesty coughs and head colds so I was just one of many to be missing on Tuesday. They were so glad to have staff numbers back up that they didn’t even consider that my absence might have been for less-than-genuine reasons.
I didn’t feel any better for having the day off. Once my hangover wore off I felt a bit bored and miserable. I felt like going a bit mad and riding a bike around the house after covering the wheels in paint, but this isn’t our house so I couldn’t do that. In the end I spent almost twelve hours playing London 2012 Olympics on the Wii. Philippa came in from work to find me swearing at the screen after getting disqualified from the javelin. She made herself some tea, then went out and played badminton, then came back and had a shower, then came and sat beside me on the sofa. I hadn’t moved an inch…..
RC 8-11-12
I skived off work today. I often joke about calling in sick, but this is the first time I’ve done it at this job without a genuine reason for doing so. I was supposed to be there at 8am, but I got rather drunk last night at the Fireworks event and didn’t fancy turning out early. So I put on my ‘sore throat voice’ and left a message on the ansaphone at 6am today. I’ll probably get hauled into the office and moaned at and questioned like a terror suspect again but I really don’t care anymore. I would almost welcome a Final Warning. I’m sick of the place. After chatting to Sophie and Tamara last week I’m even thinking of changing career and getting into care work. The hours are as unsociable as the supermarket but at least I’d feel like I’m doing someone some good. The economy might be on it’s knees and companies may be laying people off left right and centre but there’ll always be old folk around who need their bums wiped. I took a look in the Job Section of our local newspaper today and about 70% of the positions advertised were in care work. So I might even have a choice of where and when I work, rather than being tied into a Mucked-Up Rotating Management Shift Pattern that I have no control over or input into.
I’m feeling unappreciated and unfulfilled and unsatisfied and I’m fed up with feeling this way about my work life.
I need paracetamol now.
RC 6-11-12
After yesterday’s punctuation-heavy posting, I promise not to use an exclamation mark once today.
We’re off to see some charity fireworks tonight. I’m not sure how charity fireworks differ from any others but I guess we’ll find out when we get there. Hopefully they go astray and crash into the roof of a certain supermarket and burn it down so I never have to go and work there ever again. I don’t feel like venturing out at all really but I’ll make the effort. After the excitement of last week I’m feeling a bit run down and lonely at the moment. The fact that it’s suddenly freezing cold and too dark to cycle in the evenings doesn’t help. I may have mentioned this before, but I’m not a big fan of Winter, and right now Spring feels like a hell of a long way off….
RC 5-11-12
After a fantastic week of family fun (please excuse the cheesy alliteration) Sophie and Tamara are back home in Edinburgh, and Philippa and I are sinking back into our regular routine of work-dominated existence.
There are many things I could tell you about the past seven days - and maybe I will in a later posting - but the main news is this: SOPHIE AND TAMARA ARE MOVING TO NORFOLK!!
Yes - I know I’ve said that before and it’s been a bit of an ongoing saga, but they’ve finally, finally found work here! Sophie has a nursing job at King’s Lynn Hospital, and Tamara is going to be assistant manager of a care home! They both have to work three months notice, which they’ve already started, so they’ll be heading this way in January!
I am so excited, over-joyed, enraptured and enlivened that I don’t know what to do with myself, so I think I’ll go and have a relaxing bath, because if I don’t calm down soon and get used to the idea, I’ll have a breakdown long before they get here!
RC 4-11-12
You may not hear much from me this week, as I intend to spend a great deal of time with my sisters.
I shall be back with you in November; no doubt full of tales of family fun and much imbibement of vino.
Have a good week.
RC 28-10-12
I spent most of today looking for a new job. I’m so hacked off with what’s happened this week that I can barely muster the enthusiasm to turn up. If they’re going to threaten me every time some smelly old shit-bag calls me unhelpful I might as well quit and let some other sucker deal with life’s twatsters.
Oooh, I am angry today.
To cheer myself up, here’s some work-related haiku:
My boss is a tit
A corporate lapdog arse
Who shits on his staff
RC 27-10-12
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt completely hacked-off about work, but today that feeling came roaring back in spades. And in clubs, diamonds and hearts as well.
My ‘informal discussion’ ended with me being given a verbal warning, which means if one more customer complains about me I’ll be suspended for a week and served with a ‘Final Written Warning’ after which I face the sack.
So much for the meeting not being disciplinary.
I was told that ‘as a member of the management team I am at the forefront of customer relations and that my attitude is interpreted as the attitude of the whole company and therefore my behaviour with each customer can have a huge outcome on the reputation and therefore success of the business as a whole’
I laughed a little and said “Are you really expecting me to believe that a multi-billion-pound international company might be taken down by me swearing at an 85-year-old spinster? Sorry - but I just don’t think I’m that important”
And it all went downhill from there.
All this over a two-pound tin of biscuits…
RC 26-10-12
There was a scene at work today.
And not a nice, pretty scene.
An ugly one.
Uglier than that fat girl who isn’t funny, who keeps popping up on BBC comedy shows, despite not being very funny.
Ugly.
Some old biddy was moaning about the fact that she couldn’t reach a tin of biscuits because they were sitting on the top shelf. She tried to collar one of my assistants to help her, but he had his arms full with a load of stock and told her politely that she’d have to wait a couple of minutes. That wasn’t good enough for her so she hunted me down and started going on about my employees being ‘unhelpful’ and ‘selfish’ and said the supermarket was ‘ageist’ and ‘unwelcoming’
In my caring, managerial way I said “Look - this store does a million pounds of business a week, we can’t centre our attention on some wrinkled old hag who wants a two-pound tin of biscuits”
So she complained about me.
As this has happened twice in a week, I have to have a meeting to discuss whether my attitude is correct and whether my demeanour towards customers is appropriate and non-confrontational. Graham was keen to point out that “It’s not a disciplinary. It’s an informal, informative, pre-disciplinary conflab to improve management/clientele relationships and avoid future hearings of a formal and possibly terminatory atmosphere.”
Yes, I’d switched off by the word ‘informal’ as well.
RC 25-10-12
The wrong kind of birds
adorning the lawn outside
like plastic impressionists
RC 24-10-12
The plastic pink flamingoes arrived today. The delivery van rolled up almost exactly at the time they said it would, and the price was exactly as quoted. So everything’s perfect; except they’re not pink flamingoes, they’re penguins.
I’ve stuck them in the garden anyway and it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. I put one beside the flower bed so it looked like he’s sniffing a pansy, and the other one in the corner staring at the fence like he’d been naughty. Then (pausing only to take photographs) I sat one in the wheelbarrow with a plant pot on his head and hung the other upside-down from the security light. By now inspiration had struck so I spent most of the afternoon using them to recreate some of my favourite scenes from the movies. So I had them storming the beach at Normandy for ‘Saving Private Ryan’, tied up and gagged for ‘Pulp Fiction’ and in a very uncompromising position with some butter for ‘Last Tango In Paris.’
Now I’ve left them with one either side of the entrance to the driveway so you can see them as soon as you pull in. I think we should leave them there as a present for David and Becky when they return next year. The penguins have little hats on as well, so we could tie a piece of string between them and they could hold up a banner saying ‘Welcome Home.’
I’m looking at the photos now and I can’t help chuckling. I genuinely think it’s one of the most creative and entertaining things I’ve ever done. I’m not sure Philippa will see it that way, but sod it. I’m amused.
RC 23-10-12
I got caught up at work with some drunk football fans on Saturday.
Apparently the fact that Norwich City had beaten Arsenal unexpectedly meant I should have allowed intoxicated teenagers to smoke pot in the dairy aisle.
I didn’t see it that way and got security to turf them out into the car park.
Little pricks.
One of them threatened to wait for me outside and ‘sort me out’ when I finished my shift.
I left at 10pm and he was nowhere to be seen.
Little prick.
Apparently I’m the only person who finds it amusing and ironic that the pub where Sophie and her girlfriend will be staying is called ‘The Cock Inn.’ I looked it up online today and it looks gorgeous. There are four rooms in a converted building next door to the pub, and they all have four-poster beds and en-suite bathrooms. They’re going to have better accommodation than Philippa and I had in Paris this year, but for half the price.
Ted and Beryl are talking about moving house. They don’t see the point of having the extra rooms now that all their children are adults, and Beryl doesn’t want to be struggling up and down stairs when her arthritic knees get worse. She has her eye on a nice bungalow by the coast, apparently. Ted seems unimpressed by it all and I can see a situation where he just sits in his chair and refuses to budge while she’s tearing around packing boxes full of ornaments. He really knows how to be an awkward sod when he wants to. Seriously - he could teach it at university.
Philippa has found some replacement pink plastic flamingoes and has ordered them to be delivered tomorrow. She’s been panicking for days in case David and Becky find out the old ones got broken and throw us out for causing damage. Why she thinks we might be held responsible for gale-force winds ripping through the garden is beyond me, but there we are - she is nothing if not lovably loony.
I’m off to bed now. Goodnight.
RC 22-10-12
I sent Sophie an e-mail last night admitting my failure and confessing my shortcomings and generally opening my soul and berating myself, and she replied saying “Don’t sweat it - we found somewhere nice on the Internet”
So that’s that sorted then!
Hannah phoned me tonight to say “Why didn’t you tell me, you bastard?” after she’d spoken to Sophie and heard they were coming. I was so wrapped up in finding them a place to stay that I hadn’t even thought about telling Hannah! Oh well, I can’t feel guilty about that. They’re sisters after all - if they can’t communicate with each other without using me as a messenger that’s their problem.
My next task is to wangle as much time off work as possible while they’re visiting.
How many times can you get chicken pox???
RC 20-10-12
I’m still struggling to find a decent place for Sophie and Tamara to stay, and I’m starting to regret saying that I’d try. I just got excited about them coming and realised there was no room to offer them and leapt in without thinking and said ‘leave it to me!’ and now I’m proving that leaving it to me is actually a rather bad idea.
I can feel my confidence ebbing away with each unsuccessful phone call or enquiry. Next time I get the urge to be helpful I’ll volunteer for something simpler like buying them milk or carrying their bags to the door; then I might be able to achieve it rather than let them down miserably.
RC 19-10-12
I found an absolutely gorgeous guesthouse half-a-mile from us that would be perfect for Sophie and Tamara. The rates are reasonable, the rooms are lovely, and they give you a choice of breakfasts. Unfortunately, the owner wouldn’t let me book because “we don’t do same-sex groupings”
What Century are we living in??? And which country????
The Bible was mentioned in passing so I walked away quickly before I was tempted to burn the house down. If someone is going to rely on an ancient work of fiction to tell them who can or cannot sleep in a bed together then I don’t want to give them my business.
RC 18-10-12
Sophie and Tamara are coming to see us!!
They’ve already seen their schedules for Christmas and unfortunately they won’t have any spare time to travel back to Norfolk for a visit, so they’ve both booked Hallowe’en week off and they’re coming Monday to Friday!
I have rather foolishly said I will sort out accommodation for them. They can’t really doss down with Hannah at the old house because it’s full of Performing Arts students. I could ask David and Becky if they can stay with us here, but I seem to remember it’s in our contract that we won’t have people over so that’s probably a non-starter. I might put a sign up in the staff room at work for Bed and Breakfast recommendations.
I suppose if all else fails I could let them sleep in TheLoveMachine. It is a camper van after all, and I’m sure the smell of cat’s piss and damp wouldn’t ruin their holiday too much…….
RC 17-10-12
Norfolk in three words - Cold, blustery, dangerous.
It’s been bloody awful weather today. I went outside early this morning to find our bins and various garden ornaments down at the far end of the lawn. I hope David and Becky aren’t too attached to their plastic pink flamingoes, because one of them is now headless and the other has a broken leg. I’ll do my best with the superglue but I’m not a magician. I did consider calling the vet and asking if he treats plastic animals, but I thought it might be a waste of my time.
Philippa is in the best mood I’ve seen for ages. She won her badminton matches on Saturday, she had no after-effects from her ankle, and her Sports Club beat the team from Suffolk for only the third time ever, so she’s walking on air at the moment. There are rumours of a big celebration party later this year at the Sports Club, but we’ll wait and see on that one. I don’t want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed by a ‘Members Only - No Partners Allowed’ announcement nearer the time.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I am off to enjoy the Jeremy Brett film version of “The Hound of The Baskervilles” which I recorded off the telly this morning….
RC 16-10-12
I went along to watch Philippa’s badminton match. Not only did I go along, but I took Nathan and Hannah with me as well, and I shouted my support throughout! I also got into an argument with one of the opposition supporters that nearly resulted in a punch-up, but Philippa didn’t see that so I’m not going to mention it here.
It was quite good fun really. Nathan is as perplexed by sport as I am so we had a good giggle about it and found other things to talk about to keep us occupied. We’re becoming quite a nice little unit, the four of us. We go along to watch Hannah sing, and we go along to watch Philippa play, and maybe if I ever get round to drumming seriously they can come and watch me perform as well. I’m not going to go and watch Nathan preach though, I’m drawing the line at that.
RC 13-10-12
Philippa’s sports club have their annual challenge weekend against a rival club from Suffolk this weekend. Two days of pointless activities to try and prove one group of middle-aged tossers are better than another. Philippa is excited because her ankle is finally back to full strength and she wants to ‘get back to competitive action.’ She also wants me to go along and watch. Now I like to be supportive, but I’m really not interested. I don’t want to have over-fit men in their 50s looking down on me because my skills are intellectual rather than physical. Plus, watching Philippa jiggle about in a tight badminton dress for an hour is bad for my blood pressure and libido. I’m likely to drag her off the court and try to hump her in the volleyball cupboard. (pardon the expression - not sure I’ve used the term ‘hump’ in this blog before)
I now have to find the balance between putting myself through something I hate, but getting bonus points from Philippa, or having a nice weekend at home but being hated by my girlfriend.
It’s a tough decision, and one I feel I can only make after a large portion of chips and a shandy….
RC 12-10-12
When my number of blog postings hits a milestone, I tend to get all reflective and melancholy. I’m determined not to do that today. I shall just thank you for your continued support, and I hope my musings on life have not offended or bored you to the point that you are no longer reading them. But if they have - how would I know? And if they have - how would you be reading this to answer the question? So what was the point of all that, really???
Anyway….
Eight hundred blogs done
I’m still writing crap haiku
And I’m getting old
RC 11-10-12
I have decided, for a new challenge, that all my blog postings in October will have four words in the title.
I must apologise on behalf of the supermarket for anyone who used our “Order Online - Delivered to Your Door” service in the past 24 hours. Someone (who is leaving and was on their last shift) was feeling playful and removed a few items from people’s shopping lists, putting in some interesting substitutions. My favourite was the gentleman who ordered a honeydew melon and was sent instead some incontinence pants and a screwdriver.
Nathan and Hannah are taking Philippa and I out for a meal tonight. I have a feeling they may be about to tell us they’re engaged, but I may be wrong. This time last year, when I was still living with Hannah and still uncertain about Nathan, I would have dreaded it and tried to get out of it; but I’m actually looking forward to it. They are good company, and they’re very nice together, and they’re paying, all of which helps (especially the paying part)
We’re doing some mad stock-take thing at work tomorrow, so my hours are 4pm until midnight. What the Hell kind of shift is that? I don’t know whether to rest all day tomorrow so I have lots of energy for work, or have a good day out and then just get through it as best I can. I don’t know whether to eat a big lunch and then take sandwiches for the evening, or use the canteen and eat a meal on my ‘lunch break’ which will be about 9pm. I’m very confused. Maybe I’ll just call in sick…..
RC 10-10-12
My cold has finally, finally, finally buggered off. I produced so much snot in those two weeks I almost wish I’d kept it all in a jar as a keepsake.
By the way, what’s the difference between a keepsake, a memento and a souvenir?
That question will keep me awake for hours tonight.
Still I‘d rather have a question keep me awake than yet another coughing fit.
And now I’m back fighting fit - get ready for daily blog postings for a while!
(starting tomorrow…. I don’t want a relapse so I‘m off to bed early)
RC 9-10-12
I popped in to see Ted this morning. I tried to get him enthused about next month’s American Presidential election, after Mitt Romney and Barack Obama had a televised debate last night.
Ted said “I barely care about our own elections, why should I care who the Yanks are voting for?”
I said “Because the US dominates the World. The person in charge is in control of more than just their own country’s affairs. In many ways, the American election is more important to us than our own election.”
Ted sipped his tea and said “You really don’t know what the **** you’re on about, do you?” and that was the end of that.
Then I got into a flare-up at work. Some fat ugly ‘Watchdog’-watching benefit-loving bitch-queen from the Suburbs threatened to report me to Trading Standards and Interpol. My crime? I refused to help push her trolley full of gin and chocolate for her when it’s wheels got stuck on the corner of a shelf. I told her I was busy and maybe she should put less ready meals in it next time so it didn’t become unsteady and uncontrollable. She flew into a full-fat rage and said I should learn my place. The till supervisor came over to calm her down and took her off to ‘hear her concerns.‘ I really don’t care, by the look of her she’ll be dead before Christmas, and our complaints procedure takes longer than that to work through.
Then when I got home tonight I walked straight into a full-on Philippa pre-menstrual strop. She said “When you took it upon yourself to hoover this morning, did you not think it might be an idea to move things rather than just hoover around them?”
That’s the last time I help with housework.
RC 4-10-12
Cluedo was a farce last night. Beryl refused to play with “that cheating bastard of a husband of mine” and Ted was more interested in the Ryder Cup, so Philippa and I may as well have stayed at home and played Scrabble.
Ted did crack me up at one point, as he always does. He was telling me about old friends of theirs called Ada and Barry who live in Leicester. Ada and Beryl worked together years ago and they’ve always kept in touch. Friday was Barry’s 80th birthday, so Ted called him up early and said “Happy Birthday! How are you feeling on your big 80th?”
And Barry said “I would welcome death” and hung up.
Ted says he’s always been a miserable bastard so why should he change now he’s old?
Anyway - next week they’re going to try and teach us to play bridge.
God help them. And us.
RC 30-9-12
I love that feeling you get when you wake up on a Saturday morning and realise ‘I haven’t got to be back at work until Monday’
I’ve suggested to Philippa that we think about doing house-sitting as a long-term project. David said that his company are often sending people abroad for six-month or one-year placements, and they tend to use an agency to find house-sitters. If the agency exists, there must be a market for the work, that’s my thinking. We’re in no rush to get our own house and start a family, so it suits us, and we’re managing to save a nice amount of money every month because we’re not paying any rent or mortgage, just bills. I’ve suggested we do it for the next two or three years so we can save up enough for a deposit, and then see what the house prices are like then.
Yes, dear reader, this is Rory making long-term plans!!!
I’m as stunned and as scared as you are, and I’m blaming it all on my bad cold….
RC 29-9-12
My body seems to have been invaded by an alien force that is turning all my innards into thick green sludge. It’s been pouring out of my nose for a week now, and today I’ve started coughing it up as well.
The weather hasn’t helped, nor has the onset of darker, longer nights. If you’ve been with me for the last few years, you’ll know I don’t deal with Winter very well.
This year has hit me like a bastard as well - instead of the usual, gradual decline in the weather through Autumn, we’ve gone from late Summer to Winter in the space of a week. And this is after a previous Winter that seemed to go on until the middle of July. It’s September 26th and it feels like January 9th.
Sod it, I’m going back to bed.
RC 26-9-12
Have you seen the film ‘Inception’?
You know that bit where they’re in the first dream, and it’s pissing down with rain, and they’re getting shot at, and there are bullets flying everywhere, and there are cars crashing into each other, and suddenly a freight train comes speeding down the middle of the road, ploughing through everything in it’s path?
That’s what the inside of my head felt like this morning.
Next time I go to see Hannah’s band at a church gig, the only thing I’m drinking will be Holy Water.
RC 24-9-12
Hannah was fab!
The songs were shit and they were all about being saved by Jesus, but Hannah was surprisingly fantastic and talented!
I’m feeling very proud, and a little bit drunk.
I might give up work and set myself up as a manager. Hannah can be my first client. The first thing I’ll do is get her to ditch this Christian rock group and set herself up as a grungy Goth-girl Norfolk rock-lady. We’ll hire some loud teenagers as a backing band, do covers of Kate Bush songs with a heavy metal under-twist and next thing you know she’ll be an international smash! Then it’s worldwide tours, a book deal, a film about her life and a long-running fly-on-the-wall reality show. Quids in! Give it five years and I’ll be living in luxury on a Caribbean island, where the hardest work I’ll do will be to transfer funds from my royalties account and take it out from a cash machine.
Right, that’s settled - I’m off to write my resignation!
RC 23-9-12
Ted had me in stitches tonight. He was really on form. We were playing Monopoly for a while and he was cheating his arse off. His main aim for the evening seemed to be to bankrupt Beryl. She took it with her usual good grace and humour, right up to the point where she threw the Top Hat at him and stormed off to get herself some gin.
Next week we’re playing Cluedo instead, and Ted’s already talked to me about ways we can collude and conspire. He said “I love beating Beryl at board games. It’s the only time in her life when she loses control and gets angry. I love it when she’s like that!”
So my prediction for Cluedo next weekend is that the murder will be committed by Beryl, in the kitchen, with the chopping board.
RC 22-9-12
It’s so bloody dark in the mornings now when I leave on the early shift. I nearly ran over next door’s cat today because it’s black and was sitting in the driveway. TheLoveMachine’s headlights take a few minutes to warm up so by the time I could see where I was going I was two inches away from splatting little Moggums into pieces. It wouldn’t have bothered me too much if I killed it, to be honest. It’s a pretty ugly cat and his owners are a bit snooty so we haven’t spoken much.
I need to get the heating looked at in the camper as well. Summer seems to have buggered off in a hurry and it was 5 Celsius this morning at 4am. It’s bad enough going to work in the first place without having to do it in darkness and in a jumper.
As you can see, my ‘positive outlook’ didn’t last too long!
The good news is we have lots to look forward to this weekend. I finish work at 2pm tomorrow, then we’re off to Ted and Beryl’s for a slap-up tea and a big game of Monopoly, then on Sunday I get to see Hannah’s band in action at last! They’re playing from 3-5pm at a big church event in Norwich. Not exactly Glastonbury, but at least we’ll be home in time for ‘Countryfile’.
RC 21-9-12
I feel slightly better today. I’m still full of snot, but my head doesn’t feel like I’ve borrowed it from a scarecrow, and the burning pain in my throat has finally subsided. I may have mentioned this before sometime, but I really am not fun to be with when I’m ill.
So today I’m trying to be positive and happy and to prove the point, I have a glass of water on the table in front of me that is DEFINITELY half-full.
RC 20-9-12
Philippa took me out for a meal last night. She came in to find me sniffly and moany and said “What you need, my boy, is a damn good curry.”
So we went to a nice-looking pub near the river and I ordered a nice-sounding chef’s curry special.
You know those places where what is advertised isn’t quite what’s delivered?
The waitress brought me a plate full of curry sauce with one piece of chicken, almost as if it was added as an after-thought.
It looked like a bowl of soup with a crouton in.
We didn’t stay for dessert.
Today I still feel full of cold, and I also have a stomach ache. Still - it was a nice gesture, so thanks sweetheart..
RC 19-9-12
I’m still languishing in the throes of a cold. I drank so much Lemsip yesterday I’m amazed my piss doesn’t smell of lemons.
RC 18-9-12
I’ve had a really awful cold for the last three days. I tried to get out of work by saying “I don’t think I should be anywhere near food” but they just said “You’re right - we’ll find you stuff to do in the office.”
Bastards.
I’m on the early shift tomorrow so I’m going to have a hot bath, a hot toddy and a hot blanket and curl up on the sofa watching “Inspector George Gently”
I’d like to write more but I’m just far too weak to keep typing……
RC 16-9-12
Philippa wants kids
Maybe not today, but soon
Not sure I agree…
Why rush to have kids?
We should enjoy each other
For a good while yet
This is not our home
We can’t start a family
In a borrowed house
I like films and food
I’m not interested in
nappies and dummies
I’m fine with marriage
But it frightens me to think
One day I’ll be ‘dad’
RC 12-9-12
It’s amazing how much better people’s moods are when the weather is bright and summery. Everyone I saw at the weekend was contented, cheerful and chatty. Maybe we should use Lottery money to fund a project where we find a way of transporting the British Isles into the Mediterranean. I’m sure everyone would be nicer to each other if our climate was warmer. I also think less of us would be on medication for blood pressure, aches and depression. We’d also make a lot more money from tourism because we’d have sun-chasing holidaymakers all year round, rather than just in August. People would have less time off work with colds and flu, and we wouldn’t have to worry about the roads grinding to a standstill every January just because we’ve had a couple of inches of snow. I suggested this idea to Philippa, Ted and Beryl today and I got called ‘an idealist’, ‘an idiot’ and ‘a twat’ but I still say this is a campaign worth pushing on with.
Who’s with me????????????????????????????????
RC 11-9-12
Philippa and I slept in the tent on Saturday. The weather had been glorious again and we both had Sunday booked off, so we found ourselves a campsite near the beach. It was pretty busy, even though the kids are back at school now. I guess holiday prices are so expensive when the schools are off that many families can only afford to go away during term-time.
A funny thing happened at about midnight. Well - it was funny for us, but not for the guy involved. There’s a bar on the campsite, and quite a few people were ‘hitting the sauce’ most of Saturday evening. There was no crazy, loud or raucous behaviour, but a few of them had obviously had a good skinful because there was some strange singing and some comedy walking going on when the bar kicked out at 11.
Now, I don’t know whether the hero of our story had an argument that he wanted to settle, or whether he was just so pie-eyed he was confused, but at midnight he got out of his sleeping bag and used the tent next door as a urinal.
The guy who was asleep in there woke up in a hurry when it started pouring in through his air-vent. I heard words that you don’t hear often on a family-friendly campsite, believe me. We also heard giggling coming from the other unaffected tents. Lots and lots of giggling……
RC 10-9-12
Our experiences this week have put me in a very strange head-space. I can’t help wondering what I could achieve if I really put my mind to it, and wondering whether it’s time to consider a career change. I feel like this quite often though, so I’m trying not to over-react and make any silly decisions, like telling work to go stuff themselves or something.
My epic nonsense poem is coming along nicely. Well - each verse has four lines and I’ve written three verses in just over a week, so I guess you could call that ‘coming along’
Hannah and Nathan are having a few problems. She’s taken to the rock-and-roll lifestyle with vigour and he doesn’t approve, even though she’s in a Christian rock group and it’s more ‘tea and prayer’ than ‘sex and drugs.’ I’m sure they’ll sort it out because they’re great together but at the moment she’s a bit like a grumpy schoolgirl and he’s a bit like a moping Moses.
I’d better get on with some work now. I’m typing this in the office and I should really be processing holiday forms……
RC 8-9-12
