Keeping Up With The Singular Fell.

3 Jul

I’ve got a bit lackadaisical about the whole blogging lark, which is definitely not a good thing.

Thing is, the majority of the people who read this tend to work with me, so know what’s going on.

As for the rest of you, please allow me to fill you in (a la Craig David).

I had a near breakdown at work, which resulted in some ugly crying in the basement, but once I’d had that cry, I was a lot more emotionally balanced.

I then started getting a bit run down and overtired, which didn’t help much.

There was a day when I spent an hour stood on the roof of our shop, helping the RSPCA to dislodge a pigeon that had got itself stuck in the bird proof netting. Sure, that doesn’t sound so bad. But please consider that we’ve got seagulls nesting on the roof, who are very protective of their chicks. And then consider that it was on the actual roof. Not the third floor roof. The roof that you have to climb up a fire ladder to get to. A fire ladder whose first rung lies parallel with my upper thigh. An upper thigh that is covered with a rather restrictive work dress. It was also pissing it down, so that made for an extremely fun, albeit deadly situation. I just seem to have more pigeon escapades than most.

And then all hell broke loose in my immune system, leading to me getting a chest infection for the second time in six months. Amoxicillin is my new best friend at the moment, but for someone that works in healthcare, I’m terrible for actually remembering to take my antibiotics. I’m on the mend (making my shop closing bing bongs without much of a voice is a sheer joy), and hope to have bounced back by the middle of this week.

There’s some exciting stuff on my horizon, with my first comedy show/night out since going to Machynlleth two months ago next Monday, and Bastille’s Plymouth show going on sale at the end of this week. I very nearly dropped my phone in excitement when I found out about that one, and if I end up missing out, I’m going to be impossibly sad.

Then even further away on the horizon, there’s some good stuff happening. One door has been closed and locked behind me, but I’ve opened a window that I’ve been meaning to since January and that’s looking like a lot of fun. But more on that when our reporter on the ground (me) gets it.

I think that’s it. Anything I’ve missed can’t have been that life changing.

The Cleverest Idiot In The Room.

22 Jun

I ran the entire gamut of the smart-idiot scale less than five minutes after getting home tonight. 

The local news was on, and in particular, a story about a new direct bus between Truro and Newquay airport that’ll be starting soon. “A pilot service will be running next week” said the newsreader “That’s all well and good, but what about the passengers‽” I snarked back from the kitchen.

I cracked that joke and was incredibly impressed at my own comic stylings shining through, even at the end of a long day. Did either of my parents give it the praise it deserved? No they did not. It actually made me sad that Newsjack is currently on hiatus, because the BBC would already be sorting my clearance to the writers’ room.

I then went and ruined it all once I’d gone back into the living room, and said “Dueto Festival? What’s that?”

“What?”

“The Dueto Festival. It’s on that placard.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes. “Road closed Dueto Festival this weekend”. Oh. I’m an idiot. Never mind.”

And that is why kerning is so important, kids – even with hand painted things. So that Zoe doesn’t look like an absolute twat more often than she needs to. 

Oot and a Boot.

21 Jun

It’s rare that a day off nowadays actually constitutes a day away from thinking about work. 

I managed it on the most part today,  which was very much needed given how close to imploding my brain has been recently. 

I didn’t sleep in much, as I’ve been plagued the last few nights/early mornings with pretty bad dreams, which hasn’t happened for ages, but means I wake up and generally stay up. I did refuse to get up until I actually needed to though.

And then when I did finally get out of bed, it was straight into a leisurely bath (thank you, Lush avocado bath bomb, you were delightful) until I got bored. Which took me about 25 minutes. I wish I was one of those people that could sit for two hours in a bubble bath and read, or watch a film. Alas, it is one of my many foibles. 

I popped into town, which I haven’t really done for about a month, and immediately gravitated towards my old store to have a catch up with a few former colleagues, and ended up having a speedy lunch with my dear friend Cloë whilst she was on her break, which was actually really lovely. Then it was a case of getting some new shoes for work because my current pair are literally falling apart. The left one has a massive hole in the side, and the sole on the right has come apart from the rest of the shoe. It’s almost impressive how much I can ruin things that I wear. I only feel around 11% guilty about the fact that I was sat in a Clarks shoe shop, using their wi-fi so I could order shoes from their website AND get them sent to my house tomorrow, because they worked out slightly cheaper. I’m the reason that the high street is failing. Sorry everyone. 

Pretty much as soon as I got home, I fell asleep on the sofa, because I can only deal with so much excitement in one day.

I’m very pleased to say that I’ve now got the art of ordering my morning taxi to the train station down to a mere 18 seconds, which is equally impressive as it is depressing, because it means I’ve had a lot of very long days, one of which is tomorrow. Which means I should definitely be asleep now, but that afternoon nap has done me a mischief. Whoops. 

Pecking Order.

15 Jun

It’s been the kind of day that can only be offset by spending money on things that you don’t really need. Thing is, I started the day with said splurge, my card payment promptly causing the self checkout I was using to crash, and shut itself down. 

Luckily(‽), it was in my own store, meaning I was on the phone to IT before I’d even taken my bag and coat off. 

Then my early afternoon was spent stood on the roof of the shop, not trying to end it all, but attempting to get photographs of our water tanks taken whilst getting divebombed by some very angry seagulls who were trying to keep us away from the chicks in their nests that are situated directly in front of our water tanks. I’ve never been more glad to wear glasses, as I genuinely feared for my eyes. And life. But mostly my eyes. 

And I get to do it all over again tomorrow. But I shall be avoiding card readers and birds as much as I can. 

G.W.R.

13 Jun

Half asleep Zoe yesterday morning is my new hero. 

I booked tonight’s train home from work and picked a seat in first class because it worked out at the same price as standard class. What a genius. 

After the day I’ve had, I definitely needed a more comfortable seat, free cake and a much quieter carriage. I could do without the noisy Glaswegians 10 seats away, mind.

It’s been a much more successful train journey than the one I had at the end of last week, when I ended up taking an early morning detour to Saltash train station because someone wasn’t paying the greatest of attention to exactly what carriage she’d gotten on. Safe to say I don’t plan on making such a mistake again because Saltash station doesn’t even have wifi. So primitive. Originally I thought it was Great Western Railway. Turns out it was Gone (the) Wrong Railway (station).

Most of my time at work has been spent on my hands and knees, mopping up the horrendous leak from one of my chillers, before someone had a horrible accident. You wouldn’t think one chiller would leak so much water so quickly, but I have had my eyes opened wide. I am very liable to have some stern words with the chiller engineer tomorrow, considering he “fixed” the pump less than a week ago. My slightly soggy shoes and tights are testament to him not doing that.

Each Peach.

7 Jun

I think I am now officially more bumps and bruises than I am my actual normal coloured skin. 

I can say that especially after today, as I have bruised my little peach. (I’m talking about my arse, everyone. Get on the wavelength.) I won’t complain though, since it happened during a 70 minute stint on an exercise bike during work today, all in aid of the charity Look Good, Feel Better. The hour and 10 minutes flew by, I didn’t overheat, or cry (which is almost a miracle) and I wasn’t overly embarrassed either, considering we were stationed directly outside the main entrance to our shop, which is on Exeter High Street. That’s right. EXCEPTIONALLY PUBLIC EXERCISING. I was wearing sunglasses for the duration, and nobody really knows me in Exeter, so it was absolutely fine. Unlike my bottom once I’d gotten off the bike. We ended up raising almost £300 today alone, so I’m properly chuffed and glad to have taken part.

We have worked out that it could be my subconscious telling me that I need to get a little more sun, because bruises don’t look quite so bad if you’re not the colour of paper. 

Worst Of Three.

5 Jun

It comes in threes. 

First the fridge broke. Then I smacked my head on a pipe. Then the shower decided that leaking through the kitchen ceiling and light fitting was a good idea.

That’s the bad luck done for the week. The Fell family are firmly DONE with things going a bit wrong. I’m honestly more upset about the shower than I am about my head, which may be surprising given how much I’ve whined about it to people over the last few days. Sure, I’ve still got a lump on my already sizeable forehead, and yes I did have a little cry as soon as it happened, making me panic that brain fluid was leaking out of my eyes, but the human body is a brilliant thing and it will fix itself. Ceilings and lights can’t do that. You need to actually get people in to sort those sorts of problems out, and pay them over the odds for their services. 

I would just like this week to go to plan, with no problems and actually get back to enjoying everything as I should. I hope that isn’t too much to ask.

Midweek-end.

2 Jun

Just for a second there, I thought it was Sunday night. This is what happens when you have two days off together – it feels like an actual weekend, and then you get very, very confused. 

What doesn’t help is it being half term, and having Mum in the house all day is really helping to compound my end of the week vibes.

I slept for the majority of yesterday, getting up at a fairly normal time, but realising that our sofa is actually incredibly comfortable and naps on that are much more preferable to naps on a train, where your head is constantly banging against plexiglass. 

That left me with today to do more work on my rotas for, um…work, and gave me time to actually get my head around everything without the constant worry of being called out of the office in order to sort something else out. I’m in a much better place than I was, thankfully. 

And then tonight I treated myself to a shower (which never happens in the evening) with a fair few Lush products, because I have an obscene amount of them and I should probably use them up before I buy any new ones. (We all know that isn’t going to happen, but please just humour me here.) I also had an excellent chat about podcasts, words that are awful and tried to fathom just how much use I’m personally going to get out of the new emojis. The answer is a lot.

I’ve also got a brand new thing to keep me occupied on my commute, so I’m almost excited for tomorrow morning. Almost. I’ll be on the train at 5:53, so I can’t give that too many whoops and cheers.

Admin(utes onto your day).

31 May

The transition is complete.

I am the person that does their work admin on the train home as opposed to spending that precious time napping. Turns out that going into work two hours early still isn’t enough time to get everything sorted, particularly as I’ve also brought the majority of it back with me to do over the next day or so.

I am such a laugh these days, it’s unreal. Saying that, I do have some fun at work, and I only cried once this week, but that was down to a situation being so downright absurd and unfathomable that I laughed until I wept, which are the best type of tears to have. 

Thankfully, my evening has ended with discussions of The Lion King, disturbingly hench kangaroos and the next big cookbook idea, (which I shall be forcing upon all of you come this festive season), so that definitely helped to put my brain in a much more relaxed state. 

Everybody Loved Raymond.

30 May

So you arseholes all neglected to tell me that Plymouth Argyle were playing at Wembley today. Thanks guys, I thought we were meant to be friends. I got to the station at 6:30am only to be greeted by a sea of green and white and the most sinking of feelings, mostly because I knew I wasn’t going to get my usual train nap. As it turned out, I got quite lucky – my carriage was chatty, but not overly so for the time of day (even with people already cracking out beers) and I wasn’t trapped with a load of overexcited Argyle fans singing at the top of their voices unlike those in carriage C.

But even without my nap, today was actually quite a nice one at work. It was busy but not packed, and the weather meant everyone was rather pleasant. I didn’t even mind staying a bit later in order to hang some showmaterial in the store, which involved going up a ladder and didn’t result in me falling off and breaking something or someone because I am an adult human who can actually do things successfully. To a certain degree.

The train back wasn’t bad either, as the sun was just starting to set, which gave the view out of the window a glorious orange tint. There was also a tiny boy called Raymond (not Ray. Raymond. Amazing.) who insisted on running up and down the aisle for the entire journey whilst eating biscuits and clearly not giving a damn what anybody thought of him. It’s easy to do that when you’re five, not so much when you’re twenty five. 

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