How things go

I know, it's been too long. Again. It really is down to my new job keeping me so busy. I did have very good intentions to blog at the weekend just gone, but then, I decided to go for 'just a couple of drinks' on Friday evening and many, many things just went by the wayside. All is well in the land of Just, if a little busy. Moving house this weekend, and making what can only be described as a frightening lack of progress with the whole packing thing. Gawd, can't someone else just come and do it for me? Why do I have so much stuff? Why? Why? Why?

When I say 'stuff' by the way, I am not talking about my shoe collection; some things are sacred.

So, the news - in response to Tim's comment - an update on the man ahoy situation. Well, that just went nowhere fast. Got the old 'my ex-girlfriend from 2 years ago lives in Japan, but she is still very special to me; so special in fact that I keep a little shrine to her in my bedroom' line. Yep, that old chestnut. After hearing about that, he didn't seem quite so attractive any more, and to be honest, he was really short - I'd never have been able to wear my heels again. What was I thinking?

However, that was about 2 weeks ago, and I just had a fabulous weekend, which more than made up for that little fiasco. I got drunk, and got very hungover, then got drunk again and spent Sunday in recovery. Hangovers just continue to get worse as you get older, don't they? I just about felt human again at about 6pm yesterday, but all day today I still felt like I had been dragged through several hedges backwards. Everything aches. And my hair feels inexplicably heavy.

Right, I have to go now and pretend to myself that I will pack some more boxes up before I go to bed, when in truth I will just sit on my bed staring at all my junk, feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the task before me and choose sleep.

Ahem

Yes, the rumours are true, I've been cheating on blogger with Facebook. But, also, since I actually like my new job (I know, weird, right?), I'm less inclined to log on to blogger every other half hour. As a result, my posting has declined in frequency. I must try harder, that's all there is to it.

Well, I am not at work now, and it is a Friday - happy, happy, joy, joy! It is my birthday tomorrow, so I decided to take some time off work and go up north for a long weekend. The weather hasn't come with me. The moment the train pulled into Crewe, which is where the North officially starts, the skies darkened and it began to rain. Dressed in linen trousers and a t shirt teamed with strappy sandals, I began to feel distinctly chilly. It rained ALL last night - the kind you can hear pinging off the window panes - and it is raining now as I sit here typing. It is supposed to be sunny tomorrow. We'll see.

In other news, we've got ourselves another man ahoy situation. I met him at a friend's drinks the other week. I hadn't wanted to go to these drinks (isn't that always the way?), and just as I was starting to feel so bored I could have eaten my own head, this guy shows up. Well, we just talked all night, mostly about our love of all things 1980s, then realised a shared passion for the films of Wong Kar Wai. It doesn't get much more fated than that. So, I rakishily invited him for dinner the following evening, and to cut a long story short, he accepted. He actually called me on the Sat to confirm he was coming, which of course, sent me into a frenzy of flat-cleaning and manic ingredient-buying. Three changes of outift later and a melanzane parmigiana in the oven, he turned up, bearing a box of Belgian chocolates. How's that for smooth? We had a lovely evening and he left around midnight. I stayed up for a further 2 hours after he left, saying 'oh my god' over to myself, in a state of shock at how well the night had gone.

So, I'm hoping to see him again, and all signs appear very positive, but, you know how men are. Strange creatures from another planet. Things could go either way. Am trying not to let myself get excited about him, because I have done that before, and then - zip, nada, niente. And that's because men are really odd. So, no news yet, but I'll keep you posted.

Right, back to lazing around my parents' house in my pyjamas and drinking endless cups of tea. Oh, I'm going to enjoy this weekend.

Good Times

Yeah, I’m feeling better. So I have to move (AGAIN), that’s ok, right? It will all go swimmingly, I am sure. Whatever. I got paid, and that usually improves my mood tenfold, so there we are.

Plus, it has been gloriously sunny these past few days, which has just been fabulous - as long as I discount the fact that all of my new supposedly comfy sandals have repeatedly rubbed the skin off my feet (may be scarred for life, physically and emotionally - I trusted these shoes and paid good money for them, sigh).

Went to the theatre last night to see Boeing Boeing - it was absolutely brilliant! It is running until October - see it if you can - it is the funniest thing I have seen for ages. Mark Rylance and Michelle Gomez steal the show a bit, but everyone is fantastic in it. I went with Naomi, Jenny, A-M and Carly and we were all shaking and crying with laughter. And things get better: it is the Bank Holiday weekend. Joy of joy - three whole days. Oh man, aren’t we all such sad little wage slaves that the thought of three days to ourselves sends us into paroxysms of ecstasy? Maybe not really. Maybe I just wanted to use the word ‘paroxysms’.
But the very thought of three days of lie-ins does send me into realms of utter bliss.

I am looking forward to this ridiculously short ‘holiday’ - but I do hate the accompanying pressure that comes with it. You’ve got this sanctioned time off - you feel obliged to ‘do things’. All week, everyone has asked me what I am doing for the bank hol. As if it is a three-week break rather than three days. They all seem very disappointed, and not a little jealous, when I reply ‘Nothing really, I just plan on relaxing and taking it easy.’ They then launch into long-winded details about their ‘plans’: Camping in Cornwall -heh, if the journey to Cornwall doesn’t finish you off, may I point out the forecast for the weekend, which is mostly rain; a trip to Birmingham - well, can’t say it has ever been my first choice as a mini-break destination, but each to their own; Wedding dress shopping - oh sod off will you and stop showing off; doing the DIY - make sure you have big fun then. As far as I am concerned, taking it easy is what weekends, and especially Bank Holiday weekends, were invented for. The awful thing is, even though I feel like my ‘nothing really’ response is perfectly adequate, after they reel off their carefully orchestrated agendas I hear myself embroidering my plans with imaginary details, just so I don’t feel left out.

I will not submit though. I am doing NOTHING this week and that’s that.
...well, I might go to an exhibition, or um, the cinema or something, I’ll see how I feel.

Still here

Bit stressed, but I'm still here - just genuinely busy with work and unable to post from my work PC. So weird to be busy with work and not mind. Well, not too much anyway. I've been at the new place for about 2 months now, but I think I am settling in alright because it feels like a lot longer. The work load is a bit overwhelming, but we just got a new administrator, who will hopefully provide some support. I do have trouble delegating though - anyone else? It's an awful control-freak thing, I think - I won't know everything is being done right unless I do it all myself! Have got to learn to let go, and spend more time chatting. Wonder if I could make that one of my official objectives?

Everything is in flux again - I am beginning to suspect that life always is. I am moving house again, in a couple of months, and I feel tired just thinking about it. But it is late, so maybe I am just tired anyway...

The time has come...

...the walrus said, to talk of many things, of shoes, and ships, and sealing-wax,
Of cabbages and kings, And why the sea is boiling hot,
And whether pigs have wings.

I've always loved those lines. I don't have the time to blog about much else today, but those lines have been stuck in my head for a couple of days, so I thought I would write them here. Although I am short on time today, I do actually have plenty to say (read: complain about), so tune in again tomorrow.

Pure horror

It was a weekend of extreme highs and lows. I went out on Friday night for book group. Accidentally drank quite a lot of wine. I blame the hot weather – I went for a quick drink after work with new colleagues, where I enjoyed a couple of summery glasses of white wine, and then headed to the restaurant for book group. When I got there, a bottle of red was already open – when in Rome, right? So, much glorious discussion with food and wine. A lovely evening, marred only by the knowledge that I had to be up and out very early on the Saturday as the builders were starting work on the flat at 8am. That’s 8am. On a Saturday. Anyway, managed to get up and out, and went to Islington to get my hair done. This was the high point. The Italian colourist, Gabriele (a bloke), was lighting fast, and barely spoke to me at all, which is just how I like it at the hairdressers. I haven’t come in for inane chat – just do my hair, please, then charge me an exorbitant fee. That’s how it should be. So, my hair looks good, and I am very happy with it. Then I had a party to go to on Saturday eve…

I went to the party, which was miles away from where I live, in the birthday girl’s house. I had intended to stay a couple of hours, and leave in time to get the tube and thus get home around midnight. Well, that didn’t quite happen. I was drinking vodka all night, in the mistaken belief that I was being ‘good’ by not mixing my drinks. So there I was again, accidentally quaffing vast quantities of vodka, and though I didn’t feel drunk, oh, I most certainly was.

So drunk in fact that I stayed until 2.30am - then attempted to get the night bus home, or rather, a series of night buses. Pure horror. (the low point is coming)... I got one bus to Piccadilly Circus, and then another to Trafalgar Sq, thinking I would get the 453 all the way home. This is when it all starts to fall apart. Instead, I got on the No. 381, because the 453 just wasn't coming and I had been waiting about 45mins and was FREEZING, and I thought to myself, I'll change to the No. 47 at Surrey Quays. However, I was VERY drunk. In my head, at some point in the journey, I convinced myself I was on the 453, which terminates at Deptford Bridge, and therefore it would be safe to fall asleep. I duly fell asleep, and then woke up where the bus terminated: 4.30am, Peckham bus station. (this is the unmistakable low point). Oh my god. This dilemma galvanized me into action, and sobered me up a treat. Finally got a cab back to my place, and got in at 5am…and then had to get up at 7.30 because the builders were coming at 8am (again). I felt like death. The builders started work and I tried to stay in my room and lie very still, but then they started drilling and hammering. Had to drag myself up and out and go forage for food and sustenance. I was very queasy, but managed to get myself a full English brekkie at a greasy spoon not too far away, and then I felt a bit better. But only a bit.

I’m still pretty knackered today, but certainly feel more human. Obviously, I’m never drinking again. Obviously.

A pox on your eyes, payroll department

Today is payday. Normally, this would be a cause for great celebration and much worshipping of the craven idols on Oxford Street. But no. The agents of Satan who between them manage the payroll and HR departments at my new place of employ have conspired to misplace my P45, which I handed in over a month ago – a fact I just relayed down the phone to a ‘payroll officer/minion of the dark one’ without quite managing to keep the shrill edge out of my voice. So now I have received the dreaded ‘BR’ tax code, so my net pay is not quite what I thought it would be. This is made that bit more frustrating because I haven’t been paid since I left my old job about 2 months ago.

The people in payroll passed me on to the people in HR. The people in HR have said they will ‘look into this’ and ‘call me back’. They do like to have their little jokes. Do they not understand the urgency of the situation? I have things I need to buy – quite apart from food and rent, there are more important things, like I need to get my hair done – this is quite a desperate situation now - it really needed doing last month, and I made myself wait, spending what little money I had on fripperies such as travel cards and the like. Sheesh. I also need to buy a new CD player, my old one having completely given up the ghost over a MONTH ago.

Hmph. We are not amused. That is all.

Oh happy day

Oh I feel blessed today. Have just found out that Ozma will be going back to Oz, and not becoming a permanent member of staff. I am hugely relieved. Luckily I wished her no ill, so I don't have to worry about the karmic effects of my simply wishing her out of my vicinity...

In other news, I have been experiencing the downsides of the hot weather so familiar to us all - you hunt through the bottom of the wardrobe for your summery sandals, pop them on and away you go. But that's not the end of the story. I was walking down the road on Saturday morning, thinking, 'I've been walking for half an hour and these shoes are still comfy - brilliant!'. Then I felt like something was catching at the back of my heel, like maybe a small stone had fallen into the shoe or something. So I checked and found that I had rubbed the skin off my heel, and that's what was 'catching'. Blisters on three of my toes appared within about 3 seconds after that, and I have been hobbling around and applying/re-applying plasters ever since. This does take the spring out of your step somewhat.

On the off chance that you weren't enthralled by My Shoe Hell, I thought I would also share with you this fabulous story which may have passed you by: Man marries goat. An oldie but a goodie. Makes me think of The League of Gentlemen, which is never a bad thing.

Enjoy!

Back with a vengeance

Yes, you heard right, I'm back. A little later than planned, but then I always was one to make an entrance. So, before we begin, I 'upgraded' my template here, and although that means I get some extra benefits, I seem to have lost Haloscan in the move, so it looks like nobody ever commented on the old posts. But that's ok - we both know that those old posts were wildly popular and generated much fierce debate and many profound utterances. But that's all in the past; let's move on.

So to business. A lot has happened whilst I've been away. First off, I got a new job! One that I don't hate with every fibre of my being! Imagine that. Having decided, at the start of the year, that this would be the 'Year of Just', I set out to get a new job, and then I got one. It wasn't quite that simple, and I had to jump through many hoops to get this job, in fact, considering the 5 hours I had to spend at an assessment centre, the 2 hour-long personality and motivation questionnaires, and the panel interview with a presentation, it felt more like I was jumping through flaming hoops on a motorcycle. Blindfolded. With my hands tied behind my back. And you get the idea. However, as you all know, I REALLY hated my old job, so I'd have done it all twice if they'd asked me.

It has been really weird to be the 'new girl' again after such a long time (five l-o-n-g years), but we're 4 weeks in now and I am just about feeling settled and getting a grip on what the job actually involves. This was a total mystery for the first 2 weeks, as I am in a brand new department and I was the only new staff member to have joined; all the other staff were temps or 'interim'. I kept being introduced to people and then being told they were leaving at the end of the week. Plus, the woman who was inducting me (is it just me, or does that sound vaguely sexual? Say it slowly to yourself, go on: in-duct-ing. You get me?), whilst she was very nice, every time I asked her a vital question, such as 'where is the stationery? Where are the teabags kept? What is that strange electrical buzzing noise coming from above my desk?', she would inevitably reply: 'I honestly don't know.' Anyway, many of these mysteries have now been revealed to me - though the stationery cupboard still remains something of an enigma...and as I said, it's all starting to come together a bit more now.

So, all is well at the new workplace, and so now, I really must get back to the Oscar-winning screenplay. Back soon.