Archive | March, 2016

Back On The Scene.

31 Mar

I can nearly share my news, guys. Not yet. Not just yet. But soon. 

It was actually quite nice to get back to work after two days off. When you work in the retail sector, two days off together feels like you’ve been away for weeks, in terms of everything you miss. 

Also, I’m feeling like a very proud mother this evening as my old student radio station (Tone Radio) FINALLY won a student radio award. It’s also two years tonight since we started the 65 Hour Radio Marathon, so it’s all coincided beautifully. They also promised to send us some free cider if they won, so that’s another lovely thing. Just goes to show that pessimism about winning anything will get you nowhere. 

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Platonic Vomit.

30 Mar

With a day spent mostly looking at Dartmoor for the best part of an hour because the Sat Nav in the car broke and we had no idea how to get back to Plymouth from Exeter (it fixed itself once we took the SD card out, blew on it then turned the car back off and on again) most of my evening has been spent discussing language and the pleasing sentences or phrases we’re able to construct with it. It was decided that whilst “platonic vomit” may be one of the most disgusting rhyming phrases we could come up with, it remains a rather nice one to say, to go with “Porcini tortellini” from Masterchef the other night. 

Don’t you dare judge me on how I choose to spend my days off. Don’t you dare. 

A Nip In The Air.

29 Mar

There is nothing quite like hearing your own father say the words “try that bit, there’s no nipple on that” to put you right off every single thing in life.

As much as I would like to leave that comment sitting there without any context, I feel it only fair to give you some.

We all went out for lunch to The Maltsters Arms (because what else do you do when your days off coincide with half term?), Dad ordered the pork belly, it came with crackling and there were still nipples attached. Nothing has ever disturbed me more. I mean, I am well aware that pork crackling is just the cooked skin of a pig, but…you don’t expect nipples. You should never have to expect nipples when it comes to any food you’re eating.

It then started to absolutely chuck it down on our way back, which meant I was in absolutely no mood to go home straight away, because driving through the rain is actually quite nice, except when you’re the one driving the car (I imagine. Still getting round to doing that myself.) so we stopped off at Sainsbury’s to look at the toasters and buy some reduced price easter eggs.

We then came back home and watched Bake Off – Creme De La Creme, which is GBBO with absolutely none of the charm. When you’re rooting for people to drop an entire tray of Framboisier you know they’ve done a terrible job of making you give a shit about the contestants. Also, if you’re going to make people cook some Paris-Brest, and there isn’t a single heavy handed innuendo or reference to  boobs, it shouldn’t even be allowed to be tarred with the Bake Off (pastry) brush.

This blog has been very nipple heavy. Sorry.

Wrap Me Up In Cotton Wool.

28 Mar

I made it to about three minutes in work before hurting myself today. Three minutes before I gouged a hole in my leg on the side of a box of nappies, all without making a hole in my tights, which is almost impressive when you actually think about it.

It didn’t take much longer for me to catch my wrist on a display or somehow get a paper cut on one of my fingers. 

I’m basically a disaster who cannot be trusted to not walk into things and should probably be put into a sorb for her own protection, never mind that of others.

Loss and Gains.

27 Mar

Ahhh. 

Well I really got to make the most of my day off, even if I did lose an hour thanks to the clocks going forward.

I say make the most of it. I spent the majority of it on the sofa drifting in and out of sleep whilst chocolate melted and solidified on my collarbone, only to be found hours later when I had the bath I fantasised about last night. 

What I did realise was that the kind of bizarre things my mind tends to dream about are nothing compared to the actual programmes that do exist on telly. The weirdest one of all was basically The Great British Bake Off, but American, and with burly bearded and tattooed men making Bowie knives, katanas and other deadly weapons. The Great American Sword Make, if you like. I stress that this was a REAL television show. Not something that my overtired brain contoured up. 

I’m starting to think that being a commissioner for satellite and cable channels really is the easiest job in the world.

The Tiny Eyes Of A Shrew.

26 Mar

I’ve been awake for so long today that my eyes are no more than tiny blue dots in the middle of my face thanks to the almost constant watering and keeping myself awake since I’m trying to get myself into a better habit of not cat napping in the evening after work.

That is easier said than done when you’ve just finished an 11 day stretch in work and your alarm went off at 4:45 this morning though.

Still, like I’ve alluded to recently (NO I CANNOT SAY ANY MORE AT THE MOMENT AND NOBODY IS MORE SORRY THAN I.), early starts and late finishes are just going to have to be something that I’m going to have to get used to, and fast. 

I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to having the whole day off tomorrow, as I do not plan on getting out of my pyjamas unless absolutely necessary. Oh gosh – I might even treat myself to a bath if I’m feeling particularly fancy.

Good Friday.

25 Mar

It’s honestly not so bad having to go into work at 3pm in order to cover for a bit. 

It does make it easier when the weather is lovely, and you’ve spent the best part of your afternoon wandering around a garden centre, then shouting out random numbers from inside the car as your Dad has to put more air in his tyres after twenty minutes spent poring over the user manual to work out what the beeping noise meant. 

Even if it had been a terrible day, I did at the very least have a homemade salmon en croute to come back to, which was an utter joy.

I probably could have done without my Mother bouncing a small chocolate egg off my cranium hard enough to leave a mark and the sound echoing around the living room walls though.

Tolerance.

24 Mar

I don’t want to mention this too loudly, but I get almost a whole day off work tomorrow, and I am really looking forward to it. If I’m too excited about it, something will happen and I’ll have to go in earlier than planned, so I’ll just keep my happiness on the down low.

Today’s been a productive day both inside and outside of the store. I passed my third pharmacy advisor module test (with 100%, thank you very much), meaning we’re now up to date with the training, and it’s a weight off my mind.

I then had my eyes tested once I was done, which took all of half an hour end ended up with me ordering some new specs from Glasses Direct just in time for the spring. I’m overdue some new frames anyway, especially considering I’ve had my current ones since the end of 2011 and they’re basically falling off my face. 

Once I got home, I had a single glass of lemonade and Black Forest vodka (it tastes of cherry and chocolate, is delicious, and almost blew my face off) which very nearly knocked me out as alcohol after 9 solid days of work evidently goes straight to my brain and sends me straight to lie under my duvet. Thankfully I didn’t do anything that I’ll regret when I wake up tomorrow (probably at 6:30, despite the huge potential for a lie in), so at least I’ve got that as a positive. 

Little By Little.

23 Mar

I am so close to getting a full day off. Three days in the future is close when it comes to retail. 

That’s actually a complete lie, with it being close, but right at this moment it’s the only thing that is getting me through this very, very long week. That and just having woken up from being asleep on the sofa for four hours. That definitely helped.

Mood Bored.

22 Mar

My week of being in work without a day off caught up with me in the way it always tends to do. I was in a bit of a grump before lunch (which manifests itself as me just being very quiet and not really “in the mood”) then spent the second half of my lunch break trying very hard not to fall asleep and make my problems ten times worse. 

Luckily it was all okay. I made it through the day without incident and then pretty much passed out once I’d got home. I can never snooze through my morning alarm but my evening nap alarm just seems to get lost to my sleeping brain. If any psychologists are reading, feel free to conduct some tests to work out what the hell my psyche is up to.