That’s when I lose the sparkle in my eyes
And the feeling of dejection takes over.
I haven’t taken the time out to relax in a while, but seeing as yesterday’s shift was a pain in the backside, it was decided that perhaps I should take the time out to relax. So I did the old walking jive again.
This succeeds ‘Project Management’
Say I give you these keys with a specific instruction, right? Let’s pretend I told you to take these keys home and then bring them back the next day. A normal person would do exactly what I’ve said – just take the bunch home and bring them back the next day without even thinking about it. They’d probably just put them in their pocket and just leave them there. What you would do is take them home, then when you’d get home you’d be all like, “I wonder what that key does? I wonder what this key does?” and you’d do that for every single key. You are practically incapable of not thinking. And in any case, you think too much.
- Work Dad, on my personality
Missing working at The Laughter Factory with the A-Team. Wanting to go out to the pub with my drinking buddy and talk all sorts of crap and take the piss out of each other and roll around laughing. Wanting to run across a field in the late afternoon sun this weekend. Wishing for warm summer rain and being able to walk around in it and not give a toss. Wishing I could smile more and actually feel the smile inside too.
Wishing I could get a decent night’s sleep this week.
I wish I was asleep
But it’s off to work I go.
Eastcote > Finchley Road
So I made my uneventful return to work this morning, requiring an arduous journey of three staff taxis over a 90-minute stretch of road, having begun at 05:30 or thereabouts. And this was just to get to Westminster… to get a train to get to work. I was unashamedly late for my first day back in Chavdom Scumdom Newham through no fault of my own; my very last taxi, which was to pick me up at Bond Street, decided to leave me standing there for over half-an-hour, resulting in me missing the first and second eastbound District Line trains of the morning by the time I’d been dropped off at Westminster. And whilst the lovely man at the end of the phone at Radio Taxis (who are contracted by London Underground to bring us to and from work when the choo choos are in bed) was far from his usual condescending manner this morning, upon my querying him as to where my taxi was to pick me up at Bond Street, I simply received a rather unenthusiastic, “I’m sorry, but the computer doesn’t seem to know where it is.”
Just thought I’d give you guys a heads up on this one, as I know quite a few of you have digital cameras that use CompactFlash® memory cards.
Chasing trains
Chasing dreams. Back to work tomorrow.
Stratford > Liverpool Street > Eastcote