The Better Man? (probably not)

I did as I said I would do, and I managed to get a message to Christian, the recipient of my immature tantrum yesterday. Thanks to GDPR, and people’s stupid reaction to it, it took me frigging hours to be able to get confirmation from his company that he even worked for them, much less be able to negotiate about contact details. What a trial. I remember at one point literally, actually banging my head on my desk while saying “I saw him here yesterday in YOUR uniform. I KNOW he works for you” and still not making progress.

Anyway, we got there in the end, somehow. I just hope the e-mail gets forwarded properly, so he doesn’t think I’m putting in a complaint about him.

RC 28-6-19

Particles and playful prodding

I allowed myself to get into a really silly argument this morning, one which I think did both parties a lot of damage and made us both look like complete pricks. It was our old friend “God vs Science” again. A middle-aged gentleman named Christian (rather aptly) set things off and I, naturally, was on the side of the scientists and tried to engage him in a reasoned debate. Well – I say that in retrospect, the truth is probably that I rolled my eyes and huffed and tutted and started trying to put him in his place. Either way, we don’t need to go into details. Basically he was sitting near me in the canteen and went on about childbirth being a gift from the Almighty, and without pausing for breath I waded in and started throwing evolution and chemistry at him, and then got a bit irked when he didn’t react positively! We both dragged up tired old arguments, we both ignored what the other person was saying, and in the end Kathleen from the kitchen came out and made us move to opposite ends of the table. Talk about being treated like children, but then, I guess that’s how we were acting.

I do feel bad about it. I’m not sure if it’s remorse for the fact that I acted like a twat in front of colleagues, or guilt because I disturbed some people’s lunch breaks, or simply hurt pride because I didn’t win by convincing him to change his mind, but it’s left a very bad taste in my mouth, that even a Bounty ice-cream couldn’t disperse.

It would be nice to say ‘Sod it – I’ll never see him again so don’t worry about it” but unfortunately he’s a representative for a company that provides cleaning products to the supermarket, so it’s almost a given that we’ll run into each other soon.

I hate to go all hippy on you, but arguments are such a waste of energy, man. I may try and do the right thing and find his details so I can send an apologetic e-mail or something. No point leaving it hanging over us.

RC 27-6-19

Peas in a pod

It frightens me to think that Boris Johnson may be about to become our Prime Minister. The thought of living in a country led by a right-wing, bumbling egomaniac with uncontrollable hair and an unhealthy-for-the-environment relationship with big businesses makes me want to up sticks and move to somewhere else, like America. Oh, hang on……

RC 26-6-19

Half a year hence

Kick me in the shins for saying this if you need to, but 6 months today will be Christmas Day.

I think I may be putting a new bike on my list this year. The old Velociped isn’t in the best of shape these days, and asking Santa for a new one is a lot less hassle than having to learn to do mine up and look after it properly.

I’d also like the complete collection of Philip Pullman books, I think. The ‘Dark Materials’ trilogy is wonderful but I’ve never really explored him further and I didn’t realise quite how much he’s written. Of course, I could just get them all now and then read them all between now and December, but the joy of Christmas is in the anticipation and I do think some things are worth the wait.

In non-Yuletide news, my hotel booking and course info about my upcoming “Exercise in Pointlessness” seminar has come through. Ten of us in some pokey little conference room being taught how to breathe properly by some recent graduate; with a £15 daily allowance for ‘sustenance.’

At least we don’t have to share accommodation, which is a huge relief. If it was down to our company, I have no doubt we’d be bunking up together in a hostel somewhere, but the venue provide an all-in-one package where “all delegates can enjoy their own room, and use of the on-site facilities such as sauna, pool and air-conditioned gymnasium.” Not that we’ll have any time to use them – the schedule is pretty much rammed full from 8am til 7 each day.

RC 25-6-19

New week, new mind

Slept like a baby with an addiction to sleeping pills over the weekend! Feel much more alive, energised and enthusiastic today as a result. Tearing through overdue e-mail responses like a food addict tears through packets of Maltesers. I am bouncing around the site like a tightly-wound rubber-band ball made by a bored student and I am throwing out weird similes like a reformed smoker throwing out leftover cigarettes.

Many of those previous sentences alluded toward an obsession with addiction. I may have to discuss that with my therapist. If I ever get one.

I’m worried I may have gone from one extreme to the other – instead of enjoying my renewed effervescence I am overdoing it and risking dragging myself down again – but isn’t that the story of my life? I’ve never really been a middle-of-the-road, steering-straight kind of guy, it’s always been full-on or flat-out; excessive or totally passive; wild swings from one side of the emotional fence to the other. Trouble is, when you’ve been feeling tired and unproductive and put-upon, and then suddenly you feel awake and creative and on-top-of-things, it’s hard not to ride that wave hard and lap it up while you can.

I hope this has made some sense, my mind is racing far more quickly than my hands have the ability to type. Maybe I should take advantage of this and quickly write enough blogs for the next few weeks…

Or maybe it’s far more sensible if I sit down and relax a bit, and then go back to work.

RC 24-6-19

Big Downer

Been struggling this week. The old ‘overnight wakedness’ has caught up with me. The combination of my old friend insomnia and my young son being restless have deprived me of approximately half the sleep I would normally expect to survive on. So here I am again – back on the old dizziness roundabout and looking for the stop marked ‘Normality.’

I’m still managing to function, but everything seems a lot harder than it normally does and it takes me longer to make decisions, or to even understand what people are telling me. Someone asked me a question about holiday entitlement on Thursday and it took me nearly an hour to get back to them with an answer.

On another point - I know I mention this often, but some quantum mechanic has fiddled with the structure of the world and made time move a bit faster, right?

HOW THE HELL HAVE WE HAD THE LONGEST DAY ALREADY???????

Hopefully – now it’s going to start getting darker earlier, I might find it easier to get to sleep.

Sorry if this posting has been a strange collection of disorganised scramblings. Been one of those weeks.

RC 22-6-19

A random one-off

I’m not a great one for politics, but it seems to me that if you decide to be a Conservative MP, it’s not a political decision, it’s a business one. You’re not looking to improve the country, you’re just looking for ways to make money.

RC 19-6-19

Moments of magic

I spent a large part of this morning in tears. Philippa woke me up with a gift, and a big card that she had put together this week. She’d dabbed Mathew’s hands and feet in paint, put the imprints in the card, and written “YOUR FIRST EVER FATHERS DAY” in it!!

I knew it was Father’s Day, as we’ve been selling the cards and appropriate gifts at work for about a month now, but hadn’t made the connection to my own circumstances at home. How lovely.

Now I feel bad for not making an effort on Mother’s Day back in March….

RC 16-6-19

String theory?

The World Archery Championships was on television live today. My congratulations to Chinese Taipei for their win in the Men’s Team Competition.

I’ve always liked watching archery. Loved it during London 2012; happy that it features in every Olympics and Commonwealth Games, but my God the equipment they use seems to be getting a bit space-age these days. One of the American competitors was shooting with a bow that looked like something off Robot Wars. I’m all for technological advancements, but it strikes me as borderline cheating if a sporting discipline that should be about arm strength, eyesight, and ability to keep your body calm in extreme circumstances is more about cleverly balanced machinery and technical design.

Anyway, that’s just my meaningless, unimportant Luddite opinion, so feel free to ignore it.

RC 15-6-19

A Timeless Dream

A poem. A story. Written as a series of haiku.

Cold Winter evening

Feet stand upon a shoreline

Eyes on horizon

Waves of tenderness

Rise and fall and rise again

Ten fingers entwined

Memories abound

Of previous perfection

Now scattered like shells

Soft words are spoken

“Where did it all go so wrong?”

Tender tears are shed

Fingers fall apart

Bodies turn – one North, one South

To face their new lives

RC 13-6-19

Something to not look forward to

I’ve been booked onto some pointless management course next month, so I now have to spend three days away from the family in some shitty hotel in Berkshire being taught how to prioritise problems by someone who hasn’t worked in an office since he was 20. I’ve argued my corner and put across my case and tried to convince Head Office that more problems will be caused by my absence than will ever be solved by my attendance on the course, only to be told “get tasks done in advance, then delegate work to an assistant.”

I think that is probably going to be the underlying motif of the three-day course, so they could have saved themselves the expense of sending ten of us off to see a consultant by just telling us that themselves, but there we are. What do I know? The bizarre workings of the minds of Those Above Me are never likely to be understood by the likes of me and mine, so why bother trying?

I just hope the hotel does a good breakfast.

RC 12-6-19

Retrospective Excuse

I seem to be going down with a cold, so maybe my bout of being unwell yesterday was the early onset of a virus, and nothing to do with alcohol at all. That sounds good to me, because my ‘Never Again’ statement that I declared in our kitchen last night can now be declared null and void. It also means my employees and customers might have stopped thinking ‘he can’t handle his weekend booze’ and started thinking ‘bless him – he was full of cold all along.’

RC 11-6-19

Hangin'

Man, that strawberry cider takes a long time to clear your system. Today has been a combination of pounding temples, unsettled stomach, and unexpected and unwanted waves of dizziness. I’ve eaten very little, achieved even less work, and probably gone down in the estimation of my employees. Or maybe they think I’m a hero, who knows? But it must have been obvious to everyone that my malaise was self-inflicted. I can spot a hangover in a work colleague within minutes of them showing up for their shift, so I’m sure it works the other way round as well. I imagine every single person who ventured into the garage today must have realised I was suffering the after-effects of an alcohol-heavy Sunday.

It felt like one of the longest days of my life.

But I’m home now, so I’m going to have some paracetamol and a jacket potato, and take myself to bed.

RC 10-6-19

Swimming in cider

Jesus, I’m a bit squiffy.

Haven’t been drinking much since Mathew was born, but Philippa offered to drive today, and Ted’s son Alan brought some home-made strawberry cider.

Jesus.

Sounds a bit sickly and a bit too heavy on the fruit ingredients, but it tasted like squash and was soooooooo easy to drink too much of.

So I drank too much of it.

I then found myself enthusiastically roaring on Scotland in their Women’s World Cup match against England, because I’d forgotten they were playing England and I wanted to support the nearest team to my home. I think it was halfway through half-time before someone pointed out my mistake, which they did by calling me a ‘wazzock’ and throwing a pork pie at my head.

The drive home went by in a mixture of blurred hedges, my chin hitting my chest, and me talking 1000-words-per-minute about some really weird shit.

Now I am trying to clear my head enough to be able to untie my shoelaces, because that simple task seems to be baffling me and I don’t want to fall asleep with my trainers on.

RC 9-6-19

2150 BST

Hoping for calm

We’re off to a bit of a shindig at Ted and Beryl’s this afternoon. The good part is that there’ll be quite a few members of their family there, and there’ll be loads of food. The downside is that we’re ostensibly there to all watch the Women’s Football together. I’ll have to feign interest in how well the England team are doing, while shielding Mathew’s ears from Ted’s angry swearing, and hoping Ted’s blood pressure stays low enough to keep him alive so I don’t have to go into First Aid mode. He does get carried away at times, bless him. Nice to see a man of his age getting passionate about something, but I’d hate to see his life ended by him over-reacting to a sports event that isn’t going the way he wants it to.

RC 9-6-19

Snippets to catch up

I got in a bit of trouble this week for watching tennis in my office. It won’t surprise you to learn that Head office monitor people’s internet usage, and if anyone spends too much time away from allocated, designated websites it gets flagged up and you get a phone call.

So yesterday I just took in my own laptop from home and watched it on that.

I’ve got well into the Isle of Man TT coverage this week. Admittedly, my interest was piqued when I heard of an early death, but then I got hooked on the sheer ridiculousness of the whole event.  The premise seems to be: “Let’s ride superpowered motorbikes around a load of country roads and see if any of us make it through to Saturday.”

Brilliant.

Philippa has always been a fan of Elton John, so I took her to see “RocketMan” last night. I have to say I really, really enjoyed it. I went in with pretty low expectations, to be fair, but even so I came out smiling and with a far greater appreciation of his music. As is typical of our marriage, when I like something Philippa has to dislike it, so her one-word summary of the movie was ‘disappointing.’

It’s shitty weather again today, but I’m not letting it bother me. I don’t know whether I’m developing a Buddhist-like ability to accept the conditions whatever they are, or if I’ve got so used to grey clouds and rain that I’ve given up on ever seeing Summer again, but I’m just looking outside and going ‘sod it – I won’t cycle, or garden, I’ll just stay in.’

So my plan for today is: Watch Tennis, Play Madden, Drum, Play With Mathew So Philippa Can Have A Nap, Cook Tea, Drink Wine, Read A Bit, Sleep.

Brilliant.

RC 8-6-19

Happy June, all

I have exhausted myself in the garden today. It’s rare for me – shunning the opportunity to cycle, or game, or generally laze about, in favour of backbreaking labour with a trowel – but today has done me the world of good. It was very meditative and therapeutic. Concentrating on the weeding and pruning and clearing and mowing kept my mind off work matters in a way that I normally only achieve through excessive cycling or loud drumming. I now have very sore back muscles, a stiff shoulder, countless scratches from brambles and welts from stinging nettles, but a very nice-looking lawn and beds. I’ll probably leave it for ages now and then end up ploughing my way through a jungle again sometime in July, but for now I am contented and proud.

RC 2-6-19