Something For The Weekend...

I’m glad I’m not going to stay here now. I get treated as a part of the technological furniture and just an existential part of the bloody machine I keep banging away on day in, day out. I really wish today was my last day, but I suppose I get the pleasure of wrapping everything up throughout next week for when I leave on Friday. Leaving without another job isn’t great, but I’ve had enough now. I really want to get the Chelsea job. It’s not the best place to get to, it’s not as much money; but it is a sector that I know, and actually like and enjoy. That’s worth more than anything else. Not to mention that here I’m now being asked to do stuff that I haven’t been shown how to do, haven’t been trained for and know absolutely nothing about. I don’t know how these bloody places work – I was just dragged in to make their database clean and shiny on the inside so it made a lot more sense. That and about a decade’s worth of data entry.

I’m bored, and I’m not going to get paid on time – again. It’s really pissing me off now. At least this time it’ll be only a day late (hopefully) – even though it’ll be hardly anything because of Snowy Monday. That’s £80 down the drain… along with all that bloody snow. And all this really doesn’t make me want to work here. I want to go upstairs to the staff room, lie on their nice cozy couch, and stuff my nose in books and magazines for the next 5 hours.

At least my face doesn’t feel quite so bad anymore. I’ve got a 4.30pm appointment with 171 Salon on Upper Street tomorrow for a detox facial and a Swedish back-and-shoulder massage. £59 – but well worth it… Especially given a shrink would cost twice as much and wouldn’t be half as enjoyable (or even at all). I’m just glad my skin has stopped burning. However, I still look like the Bride of Frankenstein.

Working reminds me a lot of being at college – a lot of activities going on around me, and I’ve got my head either stuck in my work or up in the clouds. It’s what makes me happy; but it also reinforces the fact that I’m a very different creature to most people that are in this world. Sometimes it gives me pause for thought… Now, though, more often than not I just enjoy and get on with it. It’s genuinely what I’m happiest at, so why the hell not?? Do I have to fit into a pigeon-hole? Last time I checked, I wasn’t a pigeon. Maybe I should check again?...???

Looking forward to going for a little bit of shopping, after dropping Paris off at Charing Cross Railway Station tomorrow morning (I have my list all ready). Going to get something nice for myself to watch/play, and chill, go to my appointment, call the pizza place, and put what I want on while I stuff food in my face and enjoy my own company. Yey!! (Not that I won’t miss Paris like a dog misses licking it’s bollocks (I’m crude! … And???!!) but I may as well enjoy myself while she’s not here. When the cat’s away… Lel will kick back and do absolutely bugger all!!!