So, I'm going on holiday with David and his family. Guess where!
You probably guessed. Anyway, it's actually a tour kind of thing, starting in Vegas. It sounds great.
I'm losing weight again, thank goodness. Shame I had to gain some first.
Ah, well. At least now I get to do the good bit all over again.
It's "I couldn't care less."
Don't people actually think about these expressions when they use them?
"I could care less" means that you do, actually, give a crap about what you're supposed to not be caring about.
Don't be a moron. Get it right.
So, my life has no meaning without StarCraft2. Verily, verily.
I've just finished the blasted essay and I'm so relieved I don't have to drive to my tutor's house now. I fully intend to spend the next hour and 20 minutes in blissful repose before I get up to go and conduct a rehearsal.
Must remember to drink water, or there is a chance I could inexplicably burst into tears at the merest provocation.
Or bite someone's head off.
I'm so mean when I haven't had any sleep. It's horrible.
Yay sleep! And no more Dickens! "Hooroar" as Cap'n Cuttle might remark. "Hooroar" indeed!
Joy, if not to the world, then at least to me, for I do not have to drive to Cambridge upon completing my essay today. Yes, the OU has finally instituted online submissions for certain courses. I am very pleased about this, because it effectively gives the student more time, especially if said student is a bit... abroad, visiting her boyfriend for several months, for example. Not that I would do that, of course, just, you know, hypothetically speaking.
Of course, it is nevertheless dependent on me actually finishing the essay. This is no easy task.
Why do I struggle so much with these things?
It's odd how Mori is characterised by absence in my dreams; there, but not actually there - won't see me, is meeting us later, has gone missing... Every time. So weird.
I woke up before the photo shoot. David sent me a message and it woke me up. Good job too, as it was already 3pm. How can I miss the cool bits of my own dreams? That's not fair.
I haven't slept in so late for months. It was fabulous.
Like diabetes, I guess there is no cure for OCD. I suppose I'm going to be handling it for the rest of my life.
I honestly think anyone who manages to work out how to fill the bloody form in for a teaching post with Beds County Council ought to get an interview at least. This is an absolute nightmare.
Haven't I caused a stir?
"You're leaving?" "Where are you going to work now, then?" "You're taking a month off?" "I didn't know you studied as well!" "Well, you have to do what's best for you..."
I heard all that so many times today. Partly, it's nice to be the centre of attention. Mostly, it's nice to know that I only have a few more days and I can start to focus on myself and my studies for a while nstead of on my job and workplace.
Ironically, I've been moved off my section. Probably so that the others get a chance to try running it without me while I'm still available to bail them out if they get into trouble. I'm sad that I didn't really get a chance to do many shifts as the fry cook before today; that was the easiest shift I've ever done.
In some ways, I am very sad that I'm going, but I have to trust that I'm doing the right thing. I couldn't go on the way things were, and they didn't look set to change.
I'm doing 60 hours at work this week. 60 hours.
This is after I asked for my hours to be cut from 50ish spread over 6 days down to 36ish spread over 3 (my contract says 35). I was told that'd be fine from the end of May. Until then, I have to somehow squeeze in 15-30 hours of study around this and complete an assignment by Friday (you know, the one I haven't started yet).
Still, you'd think it'd be okay to ask for some time off to go to a funeral, wouldn't you? Trouble is, I have to go to America, and that means 5 or 6 days off, or the huge expense of flying at the weekend. Manager says no... *cough*.
I'm really tired. Like another of my colleagues, I have had to train myself on the grill. I'm actually becoming extremely confident. The only problem is familiarisation with the menu. I don't get enough practise at it to be fluent at knowing which meals come with salad, peas, veg, etc. with 100% accuracy (fortunately, the waitresses usually catch mistakes, and I always work with a menu close to hand to check things). I rarely get complaints, however, and today, I managed an immensely busy 45 minutes, handling starters, mains, kids meals, snacks and desserts, all of which came in at once. I rule the school.
So, why no promotion? Why no training? Why no raise?
Money. They can't afford to pay me more, bring me in for training, or promote me to the cookline, because they wage percentage will go up. Also, I'm pretty hard to replace. There are only 2 others in the kitchen with a similar skillset, and I'm more reliable than either of them. I reiterate: I rule the school.
A chef is supposed to put away the delivery orders. We have a lot of these I put most of them away. If I'm not in, someone will shove them into the walk-in fridge or freezer, and I sort them out when I come to work next. Sometimes, the head chef puts them away, but she's busy and doesn't always get a chance. The second chef likes to build walls of tetris so that you can't get anything out without getting buried under an avalanche of boxes of frozen food. Most of my colleagues don't seem to have the self-discipline to learn how to put the orders away. It was hard for me to learn to do it, but I forced myself. Giving up when the job starts to get difficult is a surefire way to get nowhere. End of story.
(Instead of taking me off these kinds of jobs - something which they've totally failed to do, despite assurances to the contrary - they should promote me instead; that'd solve everything.)
On another note, I'm a bit sad. I'm used to being the person people can talk to about how they feel, what's happening in their lives, what they've been thinking about. I feel like I'm letting someone down if they're not able to share those kinds of things with me. I know it's daft. I suppose I've become more isolated from certain people than I thought.
I was late to the get-in last Sunday. In fact, I didn't really help with the getting-in at all, although I did make the band call and stayed for most of the tech run, but I had to leave at 9pm. I partly blame Pizza Hut for having to leave early.
Monday and Tuesday I called in sick to work. Wednesday was my day off, and I went back on Thursday.
That sucked. It was worse today. I can't go into it right now. I just can't face it.
And my friend's mum died. I don't want to go into that, either. That'll be a long one.
So far, the show is okay.
I would also like to add that any sentence of mine beginning, 'Okay,' or, 'So,' or even more impressively, 'Okay, so,' is going to be furnished with a degree of colloquial English; perhaps even slang. Additionally, I wasn't really ranting the other night, so much as observing that the language is evolving. I am, I suppose, beginning to accept it. Finally, 'I got tremors' from McDonalds. May I recommend the McTremor Sandwich? It's very tasty.
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