Tuesday, 19th March 2019.
I’m still feeling really tense about my dad. I just can’t see him letting this go(my financial situation), until he has had his half an hour rant. This hasn’t been helped by today’s work situation.
I got a text at 7am. An engineer in London had a key that is needed in Heathrow. So, I drove to Westminster in rush hour. It took almost 2 hours. Got the key, headed back towards Heathrow and rung the engineer who needs the key. I am waiting for him to ring me back but it sounded like he had obtained another copy. Fuck.
Currently, I am in Costa at Heston services. Waiting………
The engineer didn’t get the key. I ended up dropping it off.
I got back to the office. Tried to nurse my immense headache before finding out that the same engineers needed some larger steps than they had.
Steps, steps, steps. Strap, strap, strap.
I’m back in the van heading back to Heathrow. Terminal 4 this time(last time it was Terminal 2). I dropped the steps off, drove to the supermarket in Chertsey and got lunch(by this time, it was 14.30). I got back to the office and took a bite of my crap “£3 meal deal” sandwich.
I was then informed, that the 3mm ball bearings I had ordered(don’t ask!) hadn’t arrived. This really pissed me off as the 100 ball bearings had cost about 5 quid. The pre-10am delivery had cost 23 quid!
Instead of being able to finish my sandwich, I had to source some more 3mm ball bearings and have them in my hand before end of play.
I spent 10 minutes ripping the original supplier a new arsehole(he ended up paying my full order/shipping back twice!) before checking every possible supplier.
Then, a little luck kicked in.
I found a model shop in Addlestone that had a pack of ten for 10 quid. For fucks sake! That’s a pound each! For a 3mm ball bearing! But I had no choice.
Back in the van, I whipped over to Addlestone and bought them.
No one was happy about my “over and above” effort. The only bonus point was the pack actually had 20 ball bearings, not 10.
I say no one was happy. The bosses were nothing but thankful but the people in requirement seemed to think I controlled the original supply.
I went to Carter’s on the way home. We caught up on walking Dead and I soothed my, all day long, headache by encasing it in her boobs.
Along with the 6 bottles of Corona.
I’m now at home, continuing my re-run marathon with Phoenix Nights.
As I always say. It’s a life. Not much of a life, but a life all the same…..
Wednesday, 20th March 2019.
After another ridiculous day, I have actually achieved a few adult-esque tasks.
The day started in a manner usual to my life. I pulled out of the drive to find two “let’s pick up an entire train sized” cranes parked the entire length of my parents road. After gawping at them for thirty seconds and trying to decide if I was still asleep and having a dream that I had got up and gone to work, I saw a bunch of dodgy looking FUCKERS loitering at the far end of the street. I got out of my car and approached them.
“We can’t move until 8 O’clock mate. Then the road is officially closed. You were all informed”.
“who informed us? This is a private road.”
“We are removing trees for the Shoplands”……
Fucking Shopland Cunts. They didn’t inform anyone!
“Look mate”, I said, “No one in the street knows anything about this and in about ten minutes the whole end of the street you have blocked will be trying to leave for work”.
They all looked at each other.
I tutted and returned to my car. My intention was to hold my hand on the horn until everyone in the street came out to back me up.
Just as I got in my car, I noticed the group having a quick discussion. Then, before you could shout “Worthless shitty cunts”, they sprang into action and rearranged the vehicles in a way that would enable passage.
Jump forward three hours.
I was minding my own business when I received a call from one of my engineers. He had parked on the street next to Hackney police station to go and fix one of their printer connections. He emerged 20 minutes later to find his passenger window smashed and the van cab pillaged. Probably by some pointy faced little scrotum.
You would think he could report it at the police station he had just visited but he was informed that they no longer had a manned front desk.
The disinterested policeman he had talked to told him to report it online!!!
I’ll say again. THE POLICEMAN TOLD HIM TO……….. Ahh fuck it. We are all aware of the backward, dystopian existence we now live in.
He ended up having to drive back to the office whilst I reported it online for him.
My favourite part of this was the first question you are presented with.
Are you in danger right now?
Tick the box. Yes?…. Or No?…..
As you can imagine, the whole affair ruffled a few feathers in the office but my mind was on other, personal, endeavors.
I had finally secured Louis a new dental surgery and had an appointment that afternoon.
When I arrived to collect him at 4pm, the road was still crammed full of cranes and cunts so he had to meet me at the end of the road.
I am happy to report he needed no fillings.
The end result was, I got home earlier than I had in weeks. This gave me enough time to rearrange all my credit card payments and send a cheque to the tax man and pay my tax bill.
After dinner I finally caught up with Mary. My ultimate friend and most trusted counsel.
We drank. We laughed. We took the piss. In a way, only we know how.
It may not read like achievement but in my world, it is.
Thursday, 21st March 2019.
Today, it seems I’m driving to Tunbridge Wells today. Then returning via Ashington in West Sussex to collect some materials we need for tomorrow.
I’m not bothered. My brain feels like it is stuffed with cotton wool this morning. A nice drive will do me good.
Me and Miriam. Road trip.
Luckily, I avoided having to detour over to Ashington and came straight back. It was still a 3 hour round trip.
I got back to office just in time to squeeze out 6 hours worth of email replies, allocate work to all the engineers and eat a millionaire shortbread which had been saved for me.
I got home about six. Had reheated dinner and did my obligatory, hour long, catch up phone call with my ex-wife.
The point is, it’s done now. The only thing I know for sure is, I will not have trouble sleeping tonight.
“Smell the rose. The sweet, sweet rose. That grows on castle walls in heaven.”
Tonight’s re-run has been a couple of episodes of Garth Marenghi’s Dark Place. This was for educational purposes. Louis’obviously. This was after the previous education. That was The Commitments.
Friday, 22nd March 2019.
In the haze of the morning sunshine, I said to my work partner in crime, “I’m going home at 16.30 today”.
Famous last words.
As usual, we had a quiet day until about an hour ago. Now, everything has gone south.
Translate that into real money. I’m stuck here, at this point, indefinitely.
With a mix of intelligents, adrenaline and sheer bloody minedness, I saved the situation. All works reestablished. No money lost and I emerged victorious.
As you were.
Right. I believe it’s the weekend.
the only thing to add is the playlist of songs I listened to on Thursdays roadtrip.