Well it's my penultimate day working at Hertz, unless some last minute reprieve come along (which, in many ways, I hope it doesn't) and my final day having a regular lunch break. Tradition dictates that tomorrow, on my final day, I'll have to take a 2 hour break which will be spent entirely in the pub. Of course, I am a little worried that nobody else will come along thus proving exactly how unpopular I really am, but we'll have to wait until tomorrow to see.
In other words, this is the last time I'll be typing anything whilst in Uxbridge Library. If I'm not working in the area I think it's highly unlikely I'll ever come back here; It's not exactly one of England's most important spots of natural beauty after all. Still, at least today there a e no freaks about and I'm being left in relative peace, sitting, as I am, completely alone, a good 10m away from anybody else.
Right, so a status update. I finally managed to find somewhere that would sell me an iPod Touch; The Apple Store in Brent Cross. A quick call to them on Wednesday afternoon confirmed that they had “Loads” in stock (I can only assume that they're hoarding them, preventing other less fortunate retailers from taking any deliveries until they've made the most out of being the country's sole supplier). Straight after work I drove down to Brent Cross and, after double checking that HMV and Currys really wouldn't be able to sell me one (the rather helpful guy in HMV actually suggested that my best bet would be the Apple Store) I walked in to the Apple store looked around a bit, until a plump sales assistant asked me if I needed any help. “Yes”, I said, I'll have a 32gb iPod Touch please. Minutes later I finally had my iPod. It's fair to say that I'm really impressed. Yes, at £289 it did cost an awful lot of money, but, and I can say this in all honesty, I'm suffering not one iota of buyer's remorse. I'll probably say more about it in a future post, but I can't imagine that I'll give it any less than a glowing review. My only concern is that the iPod Touch will act as a sort of Gateway Gadget and lead on to harder Apple products. Let's put it this way, just a few days later I found myself in John Lewis looking at the Macbooks and, for the first time, considering the possibility that it might be a good idea to buy one once my main laptop dies. Scary stuff. I may yet deviate from the true Windows faith and become a Macolite (despite the added expense for what is, on a hardware level at least, pretty much the same machine as a Windows based PC).
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
A final moan about the library
It strikes me that this will be one of the last occasions on which I will find myself within the confines of Uxbridge Library. Whilst it's been a great place to shelter from the elements I have been subjected to some of the most inconsiderate, classless and downright odd people I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. This, of course, happens in all library's. You only need to look back at my writing accounts from just prior to getting my job at Hertz to see that. Today I am being treated to the dubious delights of a black woman, wearing a headscarf. Of course, as ever, I have literally no problem with her appearance; I only mention it to aid your mental image and add colour to the scene. In fact, all I care about is the noise she's making. Within a few minutes I noticed her murmuring to herself. I initially assumed that she was reading her book aloud. As time has passed it's become increasingly obvious that this is not the case. At the peak of each sentence her tone rises almost as if she's gained some sort of revelatory insight in whatever it is she's reading. Then I noticed she was doing it even when she wasn't reading. In fact, she's not even looking at the book, yet she continues with what I can only assume is some kind of chant or incantation. She's giggling to herself now. Giggling whist eating peanuts. If I had to hazard a guess I'd say that she's another one of those care in the community cases that, from what I can tell, seem intent on frequenting local libraries, freaking out and annoying intensely the patrons who just want to read and work quietly. For the record, I'm both freaked out and annoyed. I was writing something else altogether, but as things are, I can only observe and document the distractions.
I've actually been rather annoyed of late. Whilst loosing my job has filled me with nothing but joy (with only a hint of worry about where the money is going to come from to fund my gadget buying habit), I am a little distressed that I have not been able to find anywhere that can sell me the last gadget on my pre-moving out list; a New 32gb iPod Touch.
I've actually been rather annoyed of late. Whilst loosing my job has filled me with nothing but joy (with only a hint of worry about where the money is going to come from to fund my gadget buying habit), I am a little distressed that I have not been able to find anywhere that can sell me the last gadget on my pre-moving out list; a New 32gb iPod Touch.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
A Weekend on the Broads
A Weekend of Broads
And on that note, some tit as just decided to criticise me. And guess what? I didn't deserve it. Good morning gentle reader. Today I come to you live from the Norfolk Broads, where I am currently sitting on a boat bound for Thurne. Obviously I'm no longer piloting the boat; it would be hard to do that and type at the same time, but that's precisely what I've been doing for a large part of the trip. It;'s actually quite relaxing really. The boat moves at very sedate pace, but because it's so slow to manoeuvre too, key decisions about such trifling matters like steering need to be made well in advance. It was in one such situation that a torrent of abuse was unleashed upon me. Happily, the bile was not directed at me by a member of my crew, rather it came from a git of a sailor as he weaved about in front of me. I'd mad an attempt to pass behind his stern just as the rules state, only to have him change direction and block my path. This I didn't really mind. After all, sail boats are entirely at the whim of the winds. In other words, he couldn't help but impede my progress. He came about again and blocked me once more. I had just put the boat into hard reverse to avoid hitting him once more, when he yelled out impatiently “Can't you wait.” Aside from thinking that I was under the impression that “Waiting” was exactly what I was doing, I got a little agitated. Subsequently my “Sorry” was merely a sarcastic prefix to a justification of my actions which eventually climaxed with me telling the feckless Sailor to “Fuck off”. And quite rightly too. I, after all had stuck completely to the letter of the law. Additionally I had shown no real signs of impatience (since I didn't feel impatient, it would have been difficult to look impatient). Anyway, nods of agreement about my righteousness were, after a good ten minutes of ranting, enough to placate me. None the less, whilst I always appreciate constructive criticism, I hate it when some presumptuous twat decides to level it unfairly in my direction.
Anyway, aside from that (and the small, very minor and not at all damaging accident I had on the Saturday) the trip, on the whole, has been very pleasant and highly relaxing. Excluding Friday night, I've barely drunk at all. On Saturday morning, when I woke at about 7.30am I felt a little hangovery, but that soon cleared. Unfortunately, by 2.30pm I had an absolutely terrible headache. After a quick lie down and some paracetamol, it subsided, but, by the early evening it had returned once more. Perhaps it was partly cause a by the fact that my lunch had simply consisted of half a large packet of Chilli Heatwave Dorritos. It certaily wasn't the booze. Over the course of the day I managed only a shandy, one bottle of Carlsberg Export and a couple of pints in the evening.
Some small oddities I noticed about Wroxham, the small town that's home to Roy's business empire. We tried to get some chips, but by 7pm all of the proper chip shops (and by this I'm excluding the chinese take away and the kebab shop) had closed by 7pm. Also, there only seemed to be two pubs and perilously few places to eat. There were far more restaurants within any 20 meters of Rayners Lane tan in the whole town of Wroxham (though, Unlike Rayners lane they do have a McDonald's, albeit one within the property belonging to the ubiquitous Roy. Also, Rayners lane does, admittedly have more restaurants per square meter than anywhere else within greater London). We eventually settled on a little Pizzeria, where I, obviously went for the Margherita Pizza. A trip to one of Wroxham's fine drinking establishments followed, but only for one drink. The boat, along with all the booze contained therein, beckoned. Of course given my weakened state, it would have been unwise of we to imbibe any further alcoholic beverages. Instead, I stuck to the Coke that I'd purchased from the small Nisa convenient store we'd found on the way back. Some more drinking (not, as I've already said, by me) followed by a quick lie down (I was the sole participant in that activity) then, after an episode of Peep Show (or maybe two, I'm not sure), it was time for bed.
The next morning I awoke ridiculously early. Well, ridiculously early by my standards. For some strange reason, every morning whilst on this trip I seemed to be waking up just a little after 7am. Perhaps a previously hidden sense of wanderlust was making me rise at such an ungodly hour; it certainly wasn't the bed which I actually found to be a little more comfortable than the creaky old thing I have at home which always seems to give me a backache. Regardless, one of my shipmates also seemed to be waking up at about the same time (eerily he seemed to know that I had left the land of nod as well, despite that fact that I was being almost entirely silent and completely immobile), so we set about the business of breakfast, showering (a process that required the boats engine to be turned on so as to heat up the water. Unfortunately this meant that we had to wake up our shipmate who slept up front in the main cabin). Once all of those duties had been taken care of we got the boat under way.
After lunch in a pleasant pub (which played host to a large breasted barmaid to whom I took a fancy. Obviously, being me, I did literally noting to sate my fancy, but there you go)in a place that I think was called Thurne, we headed off towards Potter Heigham, the place from which our last boating holiday of nine years ago had begun. This, as it turned out, was a terrible mistake. Last time out Potter Heighham had served simply as a starting point for the journey. Much as we had done with Stalham this time out, on outr previous trip, we had, on arrival at Potter Heigham, simply parked up the car, unloaded our gear and sailed away. If only we had simply sailed on this time around.
And on that note, some tit as just decided to criticise me. And guess what? I didn't deserve it. Good morning gentle reader. Today I come to you live from the Norfolk Broads, where I am currently sitting on a boat bound for Thurne. Obviously I'm no longer piloting the boat; it would be hard to do that and type at the same time, but that's precisely what I've been doing for a large part of the trip. It;'s actually quite relaxing really. The boat moves at very sedate pace, but because it's so slow to manoeuvre too, key decisions about such trifling matters like steering need to be made well in advance. It was in one such situation that a torrent of abuse was unleashed upon me. Happily, the bile was not directed at me by a member of my crew, rather it came from a git of a sailor as he weaved about in front of me. I'd mad an attempt to pass behind his stern just as the rules state, only to have him change direction and block my path. This I didn't really mind. After all, sail boats are entirely at the whim of the winds. In other words, he couldn't help but impede my progress. He came about again and blocked me once more. I had just put the boat into hard reverse to avoid hitting him once more, when he yelled out impatiently “Can't you wait.” Aside from thinking that I was under the impression that “Waiting” was exactly what I was doing, I got a little agitated. Subsequently my “Sorry” was merely a sarcastic prefix to a justification of my actions which eventually climaxed with me telling the feckless Sailor to “Fuck off”. And quite rightly too. I, after all had stuck completely to the letter of the law. Additionally I had shown no real signs of impatience (since I didn't feel impatient, it would have been difficult to look impatient). Anyway, nods of agreement about my righteousness were, after a good ten minutes of ranting, enough to placate me. None the less, whilst I always appreciate constructive criticism, I hate it when some presumptuous twat decides to level it unfairly in my direction.
Anyway, aside from that (and the small, very minor and not at all damaging accident I had on the Saturday) the trip, on the whole, has been very pleasant and highly relaxing. Excluding Friday night, I've barely drunk at all. On Saturday morning, when I woke at about 7.30am I felt a little hangovery, but that soon cleared. Unfortunately, by 2.30pm I had an absolutely terrible headache. After a quick lie down and some paracetamol, it subsided, but, by the early evening it had returned once more. Perhaps it was partly cause a by the fact that my lunch had simply consisted of half a large packet of Chilli Heatwave Dorritos. It certaily wasn't the booze. Over the course of the day I managed only a shandy, one bottle of Carlsberg Export and a couple of pints in the evening.
Some small oddities I noticed about Wroxham, the small town that's home to Roy's business empire. We tried to get some chips, but by 7pm all of the proper chip shops (and by this I'm excluding the chinese take away and the kebab shop) had closed by 7pm. Also, there only seemed to be two pubs and perilously few places to eat. There were far more restaurants within any 20 meters of Rayners Lane tan in the whole town of Wroxham (though, Unlike Rayners lane they do have a McDonald's, albeit one within the property belonging to the ubiquitous Roy. Also, Rayners lane does, admittedly have more restaurants per square meter than anywhere else within greater London). We eventually settled on a little Pizzeria, where I, obviously went for the Margherita Pizza. A trip to one of Wroxham's fine drinking establishments followed, but only for one drink. The boat, along with all the booze contained therein, beckoned. Of course given my weakened state, it would have been unwise of we to imbibe any further alcoholic beverages. Instead, I stuck to the Coke that I'd purchased from the small Nisa convenient store we'd found on the way back. Some more drinking (not, as I've already said, by me) followed by a quick lie down (I was the sole participant in that activity) then, after an episode of Peep Show (or maybe two, I'm not sure), it was time for bed.
The next morning I awoke ridiculously early. Well, ridiculously early by my standards. For some strange reason, every morning whilst on this trip I seemed to be waking up just a little after 7am. Perhaps a previously hidden sense of wanderlust was making me rise at such an ungodly hour; it certainly wasn't the bed which I actually found to be a little more comfortable than the creaky old thing I have at home which always seems to give me a backache. Regardless, one of my shipmates also seemed to be waking up at about the same time (eerily he seemed to know that I had left the land of nod as well, despite that fact that I was being almost entirely silent and completely immobile), so we set about the business of breakfast, showering (a process that required the boats engine to be turned on so as to heat up the water. Unfortunately this meant that we had to wake up our shipmate who slept up front in the main cabin). Once all of those duties had been taken care of we got the boat under way.
After lunch in a pleasant pub (which played host to a large breasted barmaid to whom I took a fancy. Obviously, being me, I did literally noting to sate my fancy, but there you go)in a place that I think was called Thurne, we headed off towards Potter Heigham, the place from which our last boating holiday of nine years ago had begun. This, as it turned out, was a terrible mistake. Last time out Potter Heighham had served simply as a starting point for the journey. Much as we had done with Stalham this time out, on outr previous trip, we had, on arrival at Potter Heigham, simply parked up the car, unloaded our gear and sailed away. If only we had simply sailed on this time around.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
09/09/08
...then work came and made us free?
Work is getting extraordinarily tiresome. Fortunately, at the end of today I will have only 3 weeks more to endure. Actually, much of my job isn't too bad. However, what I do find to be entirely unpalatable is answering the phone. There I am subjected to the full gamut of human stupidity and cruelty, frequently within the same call. Yesterday, I had to deal with somebody who spoke only very broken English and didn't seem to understand any of my questions. Today I've been subjected to an idiotic tirade from a Northern simpleton who seemed incapable of allowing me to help him. The man had a new claim to report (at least that's how its seemed at first) so I told him that I'd have to transfer him to my colleague who deals with such things. Apparently this wasn't good enough. Instead of getting put in touch with someone who could actually help him, he chose to rant on to me. It finally transpired he had been sent some claim forms to fill in. Within the covering letter it suggested that the accident could be reported either by filling in the form or telephoning. The purpose of his call was to find out which he should do. Well, I say that was the purpose, but in actual fact it was more like the excuse for the call. The real reason he had called, or so it seemed to me, was to harp on about how terrible the service was, how I didn't know what I was doing (Of course I didn't. Right from the start, I'd told him that one of my colleagues deals with such matters). Finally he started racially abusing the Spanish driver who hit his car, protesting that he shouldn't have to go to all this trouble just because the Spanish couldn't drive. It was then that I hung up on him. Frankly I've no intention of entertaining bigoted idiots, especially now that I've lost my job there.
Actually, thinking back, I put the phone down after he insulted me. If there's one thing I can't stand even more than racism it's unwarranted criticism.
Work is getting extraordinarily tiresome. Fortunately, at the end of today I will have only 3 weeks more to endure. Actually, much of my job isn't too bad. However, what I do find to be entirely unpalatable is answering the phone. There I am subjected to the full gamut of human stupidity and cruelty, frequently within the same call. Yesterday, I had to deal with somebody who spoke only very broken English and didn't seem to understand any of my questions. Today I've been subjected to an idiotic tirade from a Northern simpleton who seemed incapable of allowing me to help him. The man had a new claim to report (at least that's how its seemed at first) so I told him that I'd have to transfer him to my colleague who deals with such things. Apparently this wasn't good enough. Instead of getting put in touch with someone who could actually help him, he chose to rant on to me. It finally transpired he had been sent some claim forms to fill in. Within the covering letter it suggested that the accident could be reported either by filling in the form or telephoning. The purpose of his call was to find out which he should do. Well, I say that was the purpose, but in actual fact it was more like the excuse for the call. The real reason he had called, or so it seemed to me, was to harp on about how terrible the service was, how I didn't know what I was doing (Of course I didn't. Right from the start, I'd told him that one of my colleagues deals with such matters). Finally he started racially abusing the Spanish driver who hit his car, protesting that he shouldn't have to go to all this trouble just because the Spanish couldn't drive. It was then that I hung up on him. Frankly I've no intention of entertaining bigoted idiots, especially now that I've lost my job there.
Actually, thinking back, I put the phone down after he insulted me. If there's one thing I can't stand even more than racism it's unwarranted criticism.
Monday, September 08, 2008
8/09/08
Well, after a whole weekend of research, I can conclude that my trip to America simply isn't happening. The main reason (excluding fear, which I actually seemed to have under control) is cost. After working out that I was nowhere near rich enough to travel from coast to coast I decided to scale things down a bit. My trip would be limited to one coast. I've never been to the West coast before, but the lure of the familiar drew me towards New York. So, I was going to the East Coast. After a little thought I eventually came up with a route. I'd fly in to Boston, then, after 4 nights I'd make my way to Niagara Falls, then up to Toronto. After that I'd head back down to Manhattan and fly back home from Washington after a brief tour of the sights. As it turns out, that was going to be too expensive too. By the time I pared it down to an affordable level there was little point in going at all, especially when you consider that fact that I might be going to New York next year to accompany a friend to the Marathon (though not on it, obviously). Basically, accommodation costs in Boston were a little high, but manageable. Niagara was, relatively speaking, a bargain, and Toronto wasn't too bad either. However New York would have cost me just as much as the other places, but instead of having my own bathroom, I'd have to share wash facilities in a hostel. All of this would have totally wiped out my savings.
At the end of the day, I think I basically objected to the idea of having to pay twice as much for an unaccompanied trip as I would have to pay if I could bring someone else along. My big adventure, which, I have to admit was conceived partially as a way to prove how fine I was about being alone , had just gone to prove exactly how much of a handicap it is to be single.
I just seem to be one of the few remaining single people that I know, and, unfortunately, that means that more and more often, I'm going to be left with nothing to do whilst my mates gallivant about with their significant others.
At the end of the day, I think I basically objected to the idea of having to pay twice as much for an unaccompanied trip as I would have to pay if I could bring someone else along. My big adventure, which, I have to admit was conceived partially as a way to prove how fine I was about being alone , had just gone to prove exactly how much of a handicap it is to be single.
I just seem to be one of the few remaining single people that I know, and, unfortunately, that means that more and more often, I'm going to be left with nothing to do whilst my mates gallivant about with their significant others.
Friday, September 05, 2008
05/09/08
All things considered, it hasn't been such a bad week. Much of the depression has lifted (there was a very slight dip on Wednesday when I realised I wouldn't have a job and thus, no more money for toys), and I feel a little more like myself. Well, the “myself” that was always supposed to be. The one without the dark clouds.
There's so much planning required for the US trip though. Where exactly am I going to go, how will I get there, how long will I stay? At the moment I'll probably be flying in to San Francisco from which I'll make my way to New York (Where, this time, I'll have to make sure I explore more of the Village). However, once I've plotted it all out, it my become apparent that I've got the time to fly to Vancouver (a city I've wanted to visit due to the Douglas Coupland connection and a good review from a Canadian girl and former Vancouver resident who used to work at Hertz) and head down to California via Seattle, the home of Grunge music and expensive Starbucks Coffee. Lots of decisions to be made, but I'll try to defer them until I get a new passport. In the mean time I also have next weekend's trip to the Norfolk broads to look forward to. The boat, which is apparently going to cost us £130 each, sounds pretty well equipped. Two bathrooms (I think) and a separate bedroom for each of us. It's almost luxurious. Apparently my friend has posted all the details to Facebook, though, as ever, I can't check it whilst I'm at work since it's on the list of sites my Nazi employers deem unsuitable. Honestly, it's worse than communist China. Maybe I'll look in to finding a proxy for Facebook that actually works. After all, what's the worst they can do to me?
By the way, I'm becoming more and more impressed by this new mini laptop on a daily basis. Obviously I'd have hated it if I ended up with one of the models with the dodgy touchpad, but this particular version suits me fine. I barely notice that it's in my bag (a new, padded Belkin laptop messenger bag. It's designed for notebooks up to 12”, but it seems to do the trick) most days, and it seems pretty damn good to type on. The screens really not bad ether. It think I've got it at about 1/6 brightness and it seems perfectly fine to me. One of the few complaint I have is that all of the status lights (indicators for wi-fi, bluetooth, caps lock etc) are obscured by the palm of my right hand as I type. Unfortunately, since I'm not entirely a touch typist, I still have to look at the keyboard as I type, which has meant that I've completely failed to notice that everything's been changed to upper case. Fortunately, Open Office writer has a facility for changing the case of your writing, so it's not too much of an imposition.
There's so much planning required for the US trip though. Where exactly am I going to go, how will I get there, how long will I stay? At the moment I'll probably be flying in to San Francisco from which I'll make my way to New York (Where, this time, I'll have to make sure I explore more of the Village). However, once I've plotted it all out, it my become apparent that I've got the time to fly to Vancouver (a city I've wanted to visit due to the Douglas Coupland connection and a good review from a Canadian girl and former Vancouver resident who used to work at Hertz) and head down to California via Seattle, the home of Grunge music and expensive Starbucks Coffee. Lots of decisions to be made, but I'll try to defer them until I get a new passport. In the mean time I also have next weekend's trip to the Norfolk broads to look forward to. The boat, which is apparently going to cost us £130 each, sounds pretty well equipped. Two bathrooms (I think) and a separate bedroom for each of us. It's almost luxurious. Apparently my friend has posted all the details to Facebook, though, as ever, I can't check it whilst I'm at work since it's on the list of sites my Nazi employers deem unsuitable. Honestly, it's worse than communist China. Maybe I'll look in to finding a proxy for Facebook that actually works. After all, what's the worst they can do to me?
By the way, I'm becoming more and more impressed by this new mini laptop on a daily basis. Obviously I'd have hated it if I ended up with one of the models with the dodgy touchpad, but this particular version suits me fine. I barely notice that it's in my bag (a new, padded Belkin laptop messenger bag. It's designed for notebooks up to 12”, but it seems to do the trick) most days, and it seems pretty damn good to type on. The screens really not bad ether. It think I've got it at about 1/6 brightness and it seems perfectly fine to me. One of the few complaint I have is that all of the status lights (indicators for wi-fi, bluetooth, caps lock etc) are obscured by the palm of my right hand as I type. Unfortunately, since I'm not entirely a touch typist, I still have to look at the keyboard as I type, which has meant that I've completely failed to notice that everything's been changed to upper case. Fortunately, Open Office writer has a facility for changing the case of your writing, so it's not too much of an imposition.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Escape to the New World
Well, it looks like I've got my wish. I'm off the the US of A. My boss felt really bad about not renewing my contract. I ended up having to spend time consoling her about having to let me go. I actually feel great about it. I finally don't mind going in to work now. Knowing that it's all going to come to an end in four weeks time somehow makes the whole thing more palatable. I had none of the usual feelings of being strangled as I made my way to the station. No excessive, anxious sweating either. Maybe feeling all that on top of the alcohol sponsored nausea would have been too much for my body to take. Or, maybe, without work to worry about, all the anxiety and depression will go away.
Anyway, the reason why I was felling a little (but really only a very little) the worse for wear was that I'd been to a pub in Baker Street to discuss arrangements For next weekend's trip to the Norfolk Broads. I'll say more about that on another occasion, but a plan was set in motion. I'll work on Friday Morning, but then head straight to Seven Sisters from which I shall get a ride all the way up to England's flattest county. It transpires that I have 4 days Holiday owing to me, so I'm going to use 1.5 days for the trip to the broads and get full pay for the remainder. Not a bad deal I think. That should go some way to paying for my new iPod Touch, or maybe all the way towards buying a digital camera.
Apparently Gok Wan was in Uxbridge filming today. Unfortunately (or is that fortunately) I didn't make it out to lunch quick enough to bump in to him and the screaming masses that were following him around (seriously, is he worth that much adoration?). Instead, I sit hear in the library typing all this out after having first done a little light reading of “Dexter in the Dark”, the third and not quite as good as its predecessors, book in the “Dexter” series (as seen on TV-ish).
Once more I must take my leave of you. A couple more hours of work beckon. The countdown to freedom begins.
Anyway, the reason why I was felling a little (but really only a very little) the worse for wear was that I'd been to a pub in Baker Street to discuss arrangements For next weekend's trip to the Norfolk Broads. I'll say more about that on another occasion, but a plan was set in motion. I'll work on Friday Morning, but then head straight to Seven Sisters from which I shall get a ride all the way up to England's flattest county. It transpires that I have 4 days Holiday owing to me, so I'm going to use 1.5 days for the trip to the broads and get full pay for the remainder. Not a bad deal I think. That should go some way to paying for my new iPod Touch, or maybe all the way towards buying a digital camera.
Apparently Gok Wan was in Uxbridge filming today. Unfortunately (or is that fortunately) I didn't make it out to lunch quick enough to bump in to him and the screaming masses that were following him around (seriously, is he worth that much adoration?). Instead, I sit hear in the library typing all this out after having first done a little light reading of “Dexter in the Dark”, the third and not quite as good as its predecessors, book in the “Dexter” series (as seen on TV-ish).
Once more I must take my leave of you. A couple more hours of work beckon. The countdown to freedom begins.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Untitled 2/09/08
The past few weeks since have been more than a little disappointing. I've felt more depressed. work's seemed worse than ever. To top it all off, my best friend in my office got offered a job and left on Friday.
Today I was told that I am to attend a meeting to discuss the end of my contract which expires on the 30th September. What will be said at this meeting is, at present, a little unclear. At no point before today has there ever been a one on one meeting to discuss contract extensions, which would suggest that another contract term may not be on the cards. So, it seems likely that I will either loose my job altogether, be offered it on a full time, permanent basis or, and this is an outside possibility based a little on my demonstrated computer prowess and on my supervisors recent promotion to manager, be offered a new job altogether.
I shall find out at 4pm. To be honest, the best case scenario for me would be a contract extension. Then I could work for a month longer and build up a little much needed cash for a trip across America that I'm thinking of doing. Honestly though, my spirits are pretty low, so I don't really want to be working there for longer than I can possibly help it.
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