today: straight

So the new rule is, I do one bad thing and get three back in return? I suspect this may be because I dabbled with black magic in my youth.

I have trouble sleeping these days, which in fairness is more to do with the nightly street-parties involving the gurdwara next door than my troubled conscience. But it means that I wake up in the middle of the night, gaze around blearily, panic because I think my jacket is a murderer, and then go back to sleep whilst worrying about not getting up for work in time the next day.

But last night it was great, because I realised in the midst of my worry that today is SUNDAY! It was like getting an extra day, all to myself, to spend asleep.

Well, not asleep, because now I'm awake and getting ready to go to the gym, but I could have been asleep, if I hadn't eaten a tall frappuchino with cream, a sandwich, a brownie, two peanut butter cookies, some cheese and a bagel yesterday.

hahahahahhahahaha

hahahahahahahah


haha


hahahahahahaaaaaaaa

Outposhed!

today: curly

I wonder how many times I'm going to keep on making the same mistake?

Sometimes I'm so glad my archives don't work, but at the same time maybe I could learn something from them.

On Saturday I'm joining the nunnery and taking a vow of silence because now I honestly believe it's the only way to stop the incessant flow of unthinkingly mean comments. Maybe having to assess what exactly is wrong with me will make for a better world.

In the meantime I'm going to comment only on the weather and whether my hair is straight or curly today because these things are no-one's concern :(

for rent: turkish villa (no fat kids)

All I am saying is, I'm an almost psychic judge of character.

So today I went to the gym for the first time in about two weeks. I hate the gym. I hate not being able to stuff my face with brownies and bread and honey nut cornflakes at every hour of the day and night. Metabolism is the reason I don't believe in god. But I'm going on holiday at some point this year and as far as I can tell from Company magazine, no-one above a size eight is granted a visa for Spanish beaches. Plus the more unhealthily gaunt I get now, the better I'll look when I come back tanned and five stone heavier from the all-inclusive drinking.

My attitude to the gym is very much like my attitude to life. Get on the treadmill, hammer it for six and a half minutes, have a stroke because I'm doing too much too fast, falter, have to tone it down for my own good. Repeat for bike machine, rowing machine, sit-up machine etc etc. At the end of it I know I should go and do thirty lengths in the pool but all I really want is to go home and discuss with my housemates what sort of biscuits we'll get at the weekend.

sometimes I come home drunk

and write stupid things.

New resolution: self-flagellation.

if I were to be applying for jobs

I might be struck by how interesting and glamourous my job sounds when it's written down on paper

'buying and managing the international supply chain for a range of licensed medicines. I work with pharmaceutical companies, international manufacturers, factories, and a number of governmental bodies, as well as 1600 stores, 19 warehouses and the general public'.

Maybe I should ask for more money!

kissed a girl (found it awkward and slightly staged)

I don't have an update on the trumpets.

My housemate has aggressive glandular fever, viral meningitis and hepatitis so I have to find other people to go out with now at weekends.

Where is hot and cheap in October?

BRING ON THE TRUMPETS

BRING ON THE TRUMPETS

BRING ON THE TRUMPETS

BRING ON THE TRUMPETS


ha ha ha ha ha



TRUMPETS

new girl

So the new girl started yesterday at 9am. She went into the 'Warm Welcome' orientation program until 1pm, when she came up to category to meet our boss.

At 2pm she came and sat with me for an hour and I showed her around and introduced her to everyone. Then we went into a 30 minute meeting, then she sat with Louise, whose area she was going to be taking over. Then at 4pm she went home.

At 9.10am this morning, HR phoned to inform us that Amber wasn't going to be returning to work. She'd quit. Overnight. After one day.

...

So, basically, she told HR she didn't like our boss (not possible, our boss is LOVELY); hadn't been introduced to anyone (the most blatant lie ever told); and that she didn't like the thought of 'chopping and changing' (I'd mentioned that sometimes Helen gets us to move product areas for experience - ASMs work according to the needs of the business).

We have concluded that she's a spoilt Princess Baby.

So now we're back to square one. I'm hoping my boss will blame me for 'losing' this new join and will take the priviledge of being Training Co-ordinator off me. That is the only silver lining I'm interested in.

there's no such thing as a british accent

In Bridget Jones's Diary there's a passage where ol' Bridg is talking about her only well-adjusted friend, and speculating that the reason she is so well-adjusted is that she'd never read a self-help book in her life.

Well, I've never read a self-help book either, but Zoe and I have both been on our dating site for a month now and things are worse than ever.

I don't think I'm ugly. I don't think I'm beautiful either and I'm a terrible girlfriend but my face and hiliarious profile are the only things potential suitors have to go on and both are alright from some angles. So why, aside from maybe three or four acceptable candidates - only one of which I have any interest in whatsoever - are my days filled with the distressing viewing and time-consuming deleting of fellows like the one to your right?! It leads me to the conclusion that there are too many men in the world, all the good ones have picked their beautiful women and dragged them off to their lair, and that what is left is some pretty girls and hundreds and hundreds of inbred hairy monsters.

I'm a terrible girlfriend because I'm unbelievably independent. Most people think I'm being positive when I say this but, in reality, who wants a girlfriend who doesn't rely on them for anything, including emotional support?!

Moral of the story: going out with Zoe tonight, if we don't meet anyone worth our time I might suggest hardcore lesbianism. Are you allowed to be gay if you've got long hair?

come on take them off

So somehow I've ended up as the trainer for my team.

The arrangement was that once our previous trainer moved on (which she now has), we'd appoint whoever was least busy at the time to look after any new people. This hasn't happened. What has happened is that without any help, guidance or coaching I am in charge of meeting, greeting, organising and training three new people, at the same time.

I definitely did not agree to this because a) I wouldn't have agreed to it and b) I would have asked for more money! I'm not stupid and I don't mind helping but I resent the way my boss sneaks extra workload onto you by stealth, by implying something is only temporary when in fact she's never going to move it on to someone else.

So I've got my rebuild, Alice's rebuild, Jen's rebuild, Alice and Jen and Amber's training and schedules, two large projects around dispensing and the closure of 17 warehouses, my regular work, hundreds of bitty things daily for the team as a whole, and any questions the new kids choose to ask, which is always at exactly the wrong time and about something I've already been over twice.

I hate being asked for help. I never ask, so why should anyone else need to?!

Also, when I tell someone that something needs doing urgently on a Friday, I expect them to respect the fact that I know what I'm doing and that it is actually urgent and to just fucking do it. I don't expect them to come shuffling over on Wednesday morning asking if they can put some time in with me later that day to baby them through writing the email. If they do do this then they shouldn't look shocked when the response is a furious scowl and a 'why isn't this already done' tirade.

But it's ok because today is Job Day in the local paper and I've got my red circlin' pen at the ready!

bangrier than ever

It turns out that acrylic nails are porous, and now my fingers permanently stink of garlic!

I cooked dinner last night! I've never ever cooked for anyone before. I'm twenty three and I've never even made a meal for my housemates. Now I know how to make one thing, so that's 100% more things than two days ago. What a grown up I'm becoming.

friday night = dancing night

My housemate has meningitis.

It's not the fatal kind though.

And I have catAIDS because my kitten doesn't understand 'playfighting'.

On Monday I'm going to THE DEEP where there will be crabs the size of dinnerplates. I hate crabs, they're like extra-ambitious spiders. I don't mind spiders because I know they'll die if I stand on them. Crabs, though. Crabs, man. Stand on one, it'll carry you away.