Well, do I deserve a Not happy Jan? Well no I would expect, but 21 messages from sods and bods since my last lovely reply (repeat reply – it's an old fashioned concept) to you, AND NOT ONE OF THEM IS YOUR LOVELY SELF.
Write bitch.
On holidays, doing a smidge of work today, maybe.
Monster Gale
Went out on the weekend, with Mark and Luke, to a party. Good party, can’t remember any of it, not an iota, so you can guess what were good, huh?
Got to work late, natch and got told off by Beck for being late. Now, the only bad habit, aspect, of Beck’s is that if she is shitty about something, she is shitty with everyone and everything. So, naturally, I was feeling a little plainio… does a gun, a vendetta and a shopping mall give you an idea. So, I decided to do the only mature thing left at my disposal, wait for this… I turned the back of my chair to her – my chair swivels, it’s not a case of dragging it around – and descended into silence, where I remained for the rest of the day.
I was really cross…and it was purely, well, clearly 3 E’s is not purely, tobacco withdrawal that made me sooooo cranky today. And I would still claim that (name of company) owes me time, not the other way around, but that’s by the by.
But I have to be early for work tomorrow, so I’ve ironed my shirt and I’ve checked my emails, combining jobs. Emails, shirt at the same time. And now it’s reply to the wining voice…um…er…my sweet friend and smoke my bedtime joint, at the same time. But I’ve got to in bed by 11.30, so you’ve got seven minutes, or about ¾’s of a joint, whichever comes first.
So yes, I’m wretched! Holidays? Who’s ever heard of one of those? Jasus! You teachers, you teach for a few weeks and then you get a holiday. Get a real job, that’s what I say.
And as I butt the joint out in the ashtray, I say adieu.
Chris’ian
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