Well it has been far too long since my last post. Apologies.
It seems much has happened, but nothing really of earth shattering importance.
As I mentioned right at the end of the last post, I spent a couple of days in the South West “on business”. Bristol and Stroud don’t really conjure up those cosmopolitan images of exciting business trips that some must endure, to New York or Hong Kong, but at least it got me away from the office for two days. Adding on the lack of a Friday due to Easter it made for a very pleasant week….well as pleasant as a working week can be. I do wonder what it might be like to have a job that you actually enjoy and have a passion for.
Don’t get me wrong, I have passion for what I do, to the extent that I want to do a decent job, and get upset when folks either get in the way of that or don’t want to join in. For all my joshing, I have worked bloody hard for the past 23 years (Oh God that is depressing) and have reached a fairly decent position….but I can’t hand on heart say that I love my job.
I think a lot of that is down to the fact that when I’m gone, I won’t be leaving behind Nobel Prizes and earth changing legacies. More a list of modest acheivements and regrets that I didn’t try harder to be a pop star when I still had hair!!
Anyway, back to the story…whilst in Stroud I again stayed at the Ragged Cot which is a cut above the usual Travelodge style place our budget dictates we stay at. As well as some (honestly) useful meetings, we did just seem to eat for 24 hours, which can never be a bad thing. Mental note – actually start the pre holiday diet fat boy, rather than just keep talking about it.
Then of course we had the Easter break, and I must say that a four day weekend should be the norm. If any party stood at the next election with that on their manifesto I would not only vote for them, I’d be out there now canvassing!! Forget the small issue of an unsustainable economy, it makes perfect sense to me.
Those familiar with the Pavlov’s Dog theory will perhaps understand my theory of Bank Holidays. After the bleak winter months, at the first sign of temperatures above zero, and an extra day or two to fill, the entire nation throws itself into DIY. Some do it as they enjoy it. I however rank DIY just above removing my eyes with a rusty fork. Still, the theory held true as we spent most of the long weekend painting.
Louise was of course to blame, as she did her usual trick of starting a job, knowing that I am unable to cope with a half finished project. So after many days hard slog we now have a chocolate kitchen wall (yes, just one, and not real chocolate…just the colour), which to be fair has made a huge difference to the room, and our whites are sparkling. That as a result of my non stop glossing.
I did count the weekend a success though as I managed to avoid setting foot in B&Q. However as we drove past it during the weekend we did spot the rest of the western world queuing to get on the car park…proving my theory of course.
So back to work, but only for four days so not all bad. On Wednesday an ex boss of mine called me offering a ticket to Old Trafford that evening. He is an Everton fan, and I support Liverpool, so this may sound a little odd, but his new company “does corporate” there, so for the sake of a night out and meeting up with him for a chat I of course accepted.
There was a real sense of foreboding as we walked from his office at Salford Quays to Old Trafford, and every United fan who looked at me seemed to be seeing some sort of “I support the enemy” tattoo on my forehead.
Still, it is always a nice experience to see a big football match live, and for someone with my allegiances, imagine my delight to see United go out after leading 3-0 on the night.
Some may think that you should always support the English team in these situations, but those are people who simply don’t understand the rivalry between Liverpool and United. I have many friends who support United, and we get along fine, and even can exchange some ribbing both ways after a game. I am old enough and sensible enough to seperate the two, but the hatred for United as a concept is deep seated and irrevocable I’m afraid.
Friday brought a mini crisis only resolved by having some true friends (who happen not to support United). The crisis was that I have an ageing cocker.
For those who don’t know, he is called Henry, and is the family dog. For some time he has been plagued with nasal issues…namely a lovely stream of excess snot. This is managed by some regular medication from the vet, which seems to be funding his annual holidays and retirement fund. Over the last few days though it has reached a whole new level in yuk.
The vet was visited again on Friday evening, and it seems that my glossing antics may well have irritated his hooter (not as much as it irritated me having to do it). The plan was to get some more pills (he wants a three week holiday this year I guess) and if possible to get Henry out of the house for a bit. As he probably wouldn’t appreciate sleeping in the back garden, we called our good friends Steve and Di, who looked after him when we went away last summer. They agreed, and this meant we had to do a hand off just off junction 28 of the M62 on Frday evening. There was nothing illegal involved here, Steve and Di live in Yorkshire, so this was a suitable middle ground. By the sound of things Henry is having a ball, and hopefully his hooter will be smeg free soon so he can come home. When the kids get a cold, we’re going to use the same trick to palm them off to Yorkshire as well.
Speaking of friends who actually do support United, to round of this latest post, we entertained Mike and Amanda last night. At the risk of sounding a little odd, I met Mike on the internet!! This was many years ago now. We were both members of The Dibb, and realised we live not far apart, and made that huge leap of actually meeting up in the flesh!
We have many things in common, such as a love of Disney/Florida and a hatred of our jobs, but a realisation that we must endure the latter to have any chance of enjoying the former.
Having spent many an evening around their fire pit, we have taken the plunge and invested in one for ourselves. Wow, a fire pit and decking….as Rik from the Young Ones would have said “Stop being so blinking Bourgeoisie Neil”. Even though I am not called Neil.
Again having avoided B&Q for another weekend, we enjoyed a nice evening staring into the fire and poking it with a stick. Nights don’t get much more exciting. So much so that Louise wandered off to bed well before Mike and Amanda left, which was in no way related to the amount of red wine consumed. She was just tired.
So today is to be a true day of rest, before the diet starts tomorrow (other phrases in the same category…the cheque is on the post, we don’t mind looking after your snotty dog and I have no homework Dad honest).
Till the next time….