On and Off

Boss asked me to cover for someone by doing a double shifts, and so I went and worked my behind off for 9 hours or so, it was crazy busy.

All these time the girls collected coca-cola tabs for me, so I can get a free t-shirt from coca-cola GB, which amounted to more than a handful.

Thank you, girls xx

I am so lazy, and not very good at using time, so I work. If I work I don't waste my time, and I get to earn some dough. If no work I bum around to no end. It's like having on-off switch, and working is like forcing myself to be "on". Otherwise am permanently off. How disgusting and lowly motivated way to live, me thinks.

That was Saturday, and then came home and had some "well-done-me" drinks, and went to bed around 4am. Woke up just before 10am on Sunday, which is brilliantly early for me, and thought this was too good to be true. This is so not me, I don't do normal stuff like getting up in AM on Sundays. Nah, I don't buy it.

Next thing, I opened my eyes and saw clocking ticking close to 5pm. Nah, I don't buy it either, my eyes were closed only for a few min. Couldn't be 5pm already. Nah, no way.

But unfortunately it really was 5 O'clock. My hoping for doing few bits and bobs today was totally out of window. This is how my life is only consisted of work, work and more work. I am becoming my father.

Well am rested well and ready for another week filled work, work and more work.

Happy Mondays, everyone!

I am so full of it

In the past few weeks, I had an opportunity or two to join a group of work related people to have some food and drinks. When a bunch of people get together to just have fun drinks and such there is always one queen bee (whether it's a guy or girl) who has to be the centre of attention.

I actually am one of those bees, BUT, I also am a timid character without alcohol, so tend to give away my bee chair to someone else after a while, so someone else can start chatting away about himself.

Once I retire from the bee chair I sit back and start watching people fire away with autobiographical stories, which was waiting to burst out while I was yammering mine.

Then I think;
How boring the story is,
How loud they are,
How lame their opinions of things are,

The church where Last Supper is at.
Slightly more interesting than my yammering :p

and instantly begin to hate myself for thinking those things. I am full of crap, can't even go on without having all eyes on me for 1 min?


Well, actually, it is not like I do not enjoy hearing them. It is all very interesting to see different sides of people after a drink or two, and hearing about their private stories. It is more about my expectation speaking;
These people who boss me around has something to say, and this was all what they can come up with??

I have 2 jobs and a part of my job is actually to listen to drunk people talk about absolutely nothing. I love hearing non-nonsensical and really trivial stuff that's never going to help me in any way. I love low-intelligent conversations and stories without any firm conclusions. I just do not enjoy them coming from people I personally know too well, I guess. he difference of their colours, so to speak, is insurmountable, and absurdly boring. What is that??

Me and My Sundays

There are so many things I am not good at doing, one of which is to spend weekend / time off.

I never liked Sundays. I do not hate them, just dislike them, I get Sunday blues.

There is nothing wrong with Sundays, I love the fact that I don't have to get up to go to work, but then I usually sleep till I get up, which often means half of the day gets wasted in bed, and by the time am up I am exhausted from too much sleep, of which usually the cause of headache for the rest of the day. It's impossible to sleep well that evening because I cannot be tired in half a day regardless of how hard I try / play / work and a lousy Monday awaits.

Some times I do force myself to get up in the AM and force myself even harder to do useful things like house chores / sort out the week / shopping like any functional adults would be doing on their day offs, but then I end up having nothing to do in the evening.

Getting bored on Sunday means getting REALLY bored; there's nothing on telly on Sundays and it is too late to call out for friends because everyone else have useful and lovely things to do with loved ones and friends and families. So I end of trying not to stay bored possibly accompanied with glass or two or more of wine while rewarding oneself for being functional till then, and that's never good.

I start thinking too many unnecessary stuff, usually get sad, while dreading the next day because I have to work again, all these while am getting drunk.

Today I got up at 11.30am, which is good in my sense, did some house stuff, and bid and won something on eBay, then was getting ready to take dogs out when my eyes got so heavy and decided to nap for an hour. Next thing I was getting up and it was in complete darkness, and realized it was 9pm. 9 PM!?!? OMG.

Been to Italian Riviera with family.
Should write something of it soon..

In sheer panic and shame I think of the stuff I actually HAVE to do in next few hours, but the reality is that I will probably not going to sleep tonight, giving me all night to do anything I have to do, and that's not good because I have a busy week ahead. I may need to knock myself out with some binge drinking, oh dear.

There are loads of busy folks out there who never stop even on their time offs, and I think these people either enjoy making their life to look busier than it actually is in order to make them look more important or hard working etc., or they are just very very functional and getting million more things done than the likes of me. Either way I wish I were like that. (And that's why I was working 7 days a week at one point, just not to get Sunday blues.)

This is to say I am sorry for my wasted Sunday and next weekend, I promise, to be better one. Hope everyone else had a nice weekend!

Story of My Deformity 4

So they basically forced me to work in such a condition, and while my intention was to help my team with paper work they further insisted that I make sales call from my house, too.

My land line was my own, and my company had no right to make me calls from my house. But my boss basically said that I am not doing much by working remotely and of course it is my duty that I do so.

Nothing beats watching a huge communal tank full of
flying fish
when it comes to releasing stress :)

This is when I finally snapped and started write of break-down of my daily work at home, basically stating that I was working 13 hours a day (normally 8 hrs/day) because remote network was so slow and I needed extra time to finish each task, therefore doing just as much amount for work as I were in the office, and that my boss obviously didn't know how the team worked day by day.

The time like this actually made me rethink my future with the company. I seriously was disappointed by their treatment towards me. They don't deserve me in any way and I can do better than being treated this badly.

So, next summer, when my contract is up, I will be saying sayonara to their faces and I will not give a toss whether they find someone else who can even do half of what I do for them.

What an lousy entry, a whole bunch of them, I apologize. I will return to normal blogging in next one.
Guess just needed to offload.

(Am doing ok, thank you DD x)

Story of My Deformity 3

To answer my caring friend's comment, yes, I was well looked after while I was house bound. Someone who was kind enough to worry that I'd die if I didn't eat for a day (in reality I can go on for 3 days for sure as I have stored up enough fat and sugar!) came by with bags of groceries from Marks!

So my work finally got the picture on how serious the damage was,

BUT,

I did casually mention that I could do some desk work if required,

and next thing they were setting my computer up remotely, got that ready in an hour, and my boss was saying,

"So can you pick it up from there, start doing them applications now?"

What? I came back from A&E at 2am this morning, and am still in the torn pants and in pain and all and you want me to work NOW???

So they insisted that I work from home that way. I was not even given 1 day off.

to be continued... (Next one should be the last, hopefully.)

Story of My Deformity 2

Once dislocated knee is back in place then it is a matter of "what has been damaged or not?" but no longer about pain.

I walked (last time I was carried) using temporary brace and my crutches, and then carried onto ambulance, and off I went to the Royal Berks. Thank goodness for NHS and their very skillful staff.

On arrival my waiting time was announced to be around 4 hours, and I just sat in a very well air conditioned examination room for ages, while hearing some guy been treated for his dislocated shoulder in the next room, who seemed have done it while doing some charity sports event. All his colleagues were there cheering him up praising his bravery, promising him that his work will be covered by them and they were all happy for him to take some time off. I also sat nearby a very disoriented guy who was covered in blood, weeping how he tried to top himself because his wife has left him. I was also pushed around a few times passing in front of a young guy who was hand cuffed and was guarded by 2 police men, but didn't get to find out what this one did.

I think I arrived there around 8pm or 9pm, and was there for at least 4 hours. By 10pm I have texted everyone at work explaining what was happening, and how serious the injury was, and that I am not going to work the following day. Most of them texted back, except for general managers.

I got up next day and thought I'd better call work and discuss my options. At this point I have no strength in my right knee, and was strapped in a big fat knee brace, still in the clothes I was wearing from the time of collapse because I was wearing a sweat pants that required the brace to be removed for changing. I was also in pain and could not sit in a chair for a long time unless my whole right leg was supported.

blurtin' blur

"Hi boss, how is it going, is everyone panicking as am not coming in?"
I asked. He replied,
"It's not too bad now, but if it's going to be more than a couple of days?"
I interrupted him right there,
"It will be more than couple of WEEKS!!"

The point there was that I have to drive to work, or take trains (so many I can't count how many) to get to work, and those 2 options were improbable due to the fact;

1. I could not walk
2. I could not move or bend my right knee to maneuver my car.

"How long are you talking about, really?"
Boss asked,
"Took me months last time, but can't say till I see a doctor next week."

was my answer.

to be continued...

Story of My Deformity

This was a while back, I was at a private hospital, having my knees examined by mum's boss (bone specialist) who took so many X-rays and then wiggled my legs and knees and then said,
"Well, you are born with deformity in your knees."

Did not think the choice of words he used were nice, but that basically was that, I have knees that are abnormal. I happened to have a dent on my ear, so that makes 3 in total. I don't mind having something that are just mine, really.

What it is, though, is that my knee caps are rather loose and my knees are very easily popped. Have done so twice in past 8 years, and it had happened again 4 weeks ago.

I was watering my garden, and thought about washing my car as the hose was set towards where car was parked. So I went inside to get a bucket, and found it, then bent my body backward to grab a sponge which was right behind me. Then next thing I've lost balance and I was on floor. I knew what had happened, but I was in such a pain and shock I couldn't move to see my knee to check it.

A minute had passed and I put all my remaining guts and energy to look down (or up in this case, as I was laying on the floor and my thigh was up in the air,) and sure enough, there was a lower part of my leg missing below my knee,but just hanging off the joint.

Paramedics cut open my sweat pants
(@£3 from George!)

I began screaming as if I was being murdered, through the open door, as loud as I can. It was late afternoon to early evening and I knew people will hear me, but, man, that felt like it was forever before someone said,
"What is the matter?"

It was quite lucky that I had my knee dislocated at that time of the day, at where I was at. I had all my necessities in visible proximity, and even had my crutches next to me from the last dislocation.

Paramedics arrived within 30 min, gave me laughing gas, and snapped my knee back in place, which is one of the worst things I had to experience.

This story goes on for a bit as that was the only beginning. Well, let's just say, thanks to my neighbours, paramedics and my crush I am OK today, and am walking about with some aid of crutches.


to be continued...