Window Liker.

29 May

Working in a store that has a first floor meant that it didn’t seem so bad that I was missing all of the glorious weather, considering I had absolutely no windows to gaze longingly out of. 

I did have to put a kibosh on customers mentioning the sun – thankfully most of them understood the woe of my rapidly decreasing vitamin d levels. I still couldn’t forget how nice it was outside considering that 70% of people were buying suncream or hayfever tablets.

The crowds that will come in tomorrow on the bank holiday because they’ve got sunstroke will NOT fall in the same part of the Venn diagram, believe me.

Gold Medal Position.

28 May

Even as a seasoned sleeping champion, falling asleep within 7 minutes of getting home from work and into bed impressed me. (Hence the lack of “daily” blog.) 

It was actually quite useful though, given I was up again at a silly hour to get back in to Exeter, and with it being a bank holiday AND the Big Weekend, I didn’t fancy turning up late and have nobody there to open up the store.

But I survived, despite it being impossibly busy and now I’ve only got three days of work left until I’m off again. So that’s totally doable. Not that I have the option for it not to be, mind.

Manageable.

26 May

So I made it through my long day at work without crying.

I cannot promise that the same can be said for tomorrow, as at this rate, my brain may well be fried by 10am.

This is all in a day’s work for an Assistant Manager though, so I really should be used to it by now. All I can hope for is to sleep right through until my alarm at 4am, and then catch another 40 winks (in this case, equivalent to approximately 47 minutes) on the train to Exeter.

I’m crossing everything, even though that’ll make my leg go to sleep and I’ll almost go arse over tit whilst trying to walk across the platform.

Again.

Better Together?

25 May

The only problem that I’ve realised about having both my days off in the week together is this:

I’ve kind of forgotten to go to bed. Coming home from work and knowing it’s only a few hours until I have to get up again makes it much easier to send myself back under the duvet.

As I’ve not really had that much to do today, I’ve not expended much energy, and that’s why it’s 11pm and I’m still downstairs on my laptop well aware that I should get some sleep, else the next six days are going to snowball into me being overtired and overemotional, which is the worst combination short of “moist panties”.

I’m going to bed.

Definitely.

Honest.

Preaching To The Converted.

24 May

I have spent my day off doing exactly what I should have. 

Having a lie in (despite actually waking up at 6:15, thank you body clock.), catching up with the single episode of Preacher that’s been released so far (So. Many. Questions.), eating pizza, drinking cider and watching a David Attenborough documentary about bioluminescence when we started feeling a bit sleepy. And I’m home at a reasonable time too, with no parents asleep to wake up with clumpy footsteps.

Everybody has won today.

All Work. No Play.

23 May

Today was very nearly the day at work that utterly broke me, and that is saying something, if we consider that I’ve had a hand in retail for almost nine years. Turns out that self imposed 12 hour shifts are not the wisest of choices.

I can safely say that I understand why so many people go home and drink wine once they finish their day. I settled for pre mixed spirits alone on the train back to Plymouth. 

These next two days off are going to be the best.

Social Chrysallis. 

20 May

The most depressing thing about having to commute to work is when I’m on a late followed by an early. It’s not just because I have to get up at a ridiculous time of the morning in order to actually get to work when I’m supposed to, it’s mostly because when I do leave in the evening, I’m well aware that I’m going to be back in less than 12 hours. 

It’s no wonder that my social life is currently dying a death. 

Love You Later.

18 May

*claws own eyes out*

Eugh. I am still cringing. I was on FaceTime with a friend earlier, then as my send off, decided to go with the delightful portmanteau of “love you later” instead of “love you, see you later”. If I hadn’t drawn attention to it, we would have been fine. But I did. And I got rather embarrassed about it.

What a silly thing I am.

But today’s been nice. Busy, as per, but nice. We’ve been preparing for next week’s management reshuffle at work, where I’m going to be taking over the two till banks as well as heading up customer care in store, so that’s a rather exciting change and a huge step up. I always love a challenge, and this really is going to be my biggest one yet.

Lead By Example.

16 May

I’ve had too much food and far too many laughs to count today as a proper shift at work, despite it being a leadership day with the rest of the management team. 

It gave me a chance to reflect on the kind of leader I am, and work out the kind of leader I want to be, and I know that I’m going to have to prove myself and my worth very soon.

Basically, I think I’m still hopped up on all the sugary tea I’ve been drinking throughout the day, and am seconds away from an almighty crash that leaves me starfished on my bed, fast asleep, so I had better post this soon. 

Then and Now.

15 May

Well yesterday was more than a little mad. 

Because I was on the early at work, my alarms were set for 3am and 3:30 (the second is to ensure I actually do get up), meaning that my train journey into Exeter was designated napping time, which is all well and good until some very chatty teenagers sit two rows behind you. It was 5:30am. Nowhere opens until 8am at the earliest. GO BACK TO SLEEP. Luckily I’m brilliant at sleeping on the train so it didn’t much bother me.

Then it was a very long, rather stressful day at work, but finishing before 5pm did make it better.

Once I’d gotten home (after having to share a table with two twelve year olds who spent the entirety of the journey hearing all about the clothes they’d bought that day), it was straight into my pyjamas before dinner, and the mammoth annual task of live tweeting Eurovision, which is always my favourite night of the year on Twitter. I almost always end up in a slightly crumpled heap on the sofa, cheeks streaked with tears thanks to all the laughing I’ve been doing. 

By the time my evening had finished, I’d been awake for the best part of 21 hours, so I was out like a light almost as soon as my head hit my pillow.

Today I’ve not really moved my head from said pillow, except for a bit of time where I moved downstairs in order to get a bit of sun onto my legs, as the only colour on them at the moment seem to be bruises left over from moving chairs at Machynlleth and that doesn’t seem to be the look that’s in season.