Baby don't be gentle
I can handle anything
I'm not sure if this happens to everyone or just me (I do have my suspicions that it's just me) but sometimes I like one line of a song so much that I can't stop listening to it. Not the whole song, just that one line. I'll start a song from the beginning and as soon as I get past the line I like I'll hit back and start it again. This process can repeat for my entire journey to wherever I'm going.
Yeah, yeah I know what you're all saying right now. You are crazy Holly, that's a very odd thing to do. My response to that? Well of course I'm crazy, I think that fact was established a very long time ago! I am under no illusions as to my level of crazy.
Do you know what I really hate? STOCKTAKE!!! Yup, I hate, hate, HATE it. It's so fucking retarded and bloody boring to boot. (ha I wonder if the phrase 'to boot' is one of those very British things that means any American readers have no idea what I was just saying. Not sure, it could be American too. I have no fucking clue.)
So, on a Wednesday night I get to work and I start on stocktake. I prepare the count sheets (by prepare I mean print), hand them to my counting boys (by counting boys I mean the two guys I suckered into helping) and enter all of the invoices (by invoices I mean the fucking shit-load of invoices since we order so much god-damn stock). I then help out with a bit of counting (cups. For some reason counting cups has become my thing. Doesn't make any sense since I hate counting cups) Once counting is done 8 hours has usually passed so it's midnight and home time. I have no idea how that all takes me 8 hours cos on paper it isn't a lot. But it does. So there!
Thursday dawns and I grumpily get out of bed and head down to the hell-hole that is my work. I take the count sheets from the night before and add them up (sometimes I will have done this the night before or got the boys to do it the night before. Other times the count has taken so fucking long I have to add it up on Thursday.) Once they are all added I type it into the computer and get the wastage book. This is when the nightmare really begins. It's such a big site we usually have 2-3 pages of wastage. Two or three PAGES!! It's insane. How the hell do the staff there damage so much stock? How? I'll tell you how. Because they are retarded! They are retarded and stupid and dumb and can't even sell a large drink without dropping the cup on the floor, standing on it, slipping over and banging their head! Ok maybe that doesn't happen EVERY time someone sells a large drink but I bet it has happened!
It is then time to print out a summary of all the variances and start re-counting. (hmm should that be 'recounting'. I don't think so since I actually am counting for a second time not remembering the count from the night before. God help me, I try never to remember the count from the night before so I'm definitely not recounting it. Although I am recounting it right now in the telling of this story. Help! I've gone disastrously off-topic here!)
Anyway my boss is usually on my back by this point demanding the finished stocktake. It's just never gonna happen mate. The place is too huge and stocktake is too stupid for me to have it done that quickly. So he demands it, I hedge, he gets annoyed and sits me down to tell me how important stocktake is, I wonder why if it's so important to get it done quickly he is wasting an hour of my time telling me about its importance, he prattles on some more, I daydream about the day I have a job that doesn't include stocktake, he tells me how wonderful he is at stocktake, I think to myself 'THEN GO AND FUCKING DO IT YOUR FUCKING SELF!!!) I kid you not - this is a regular Thursday occurrence now. I can't even count (gah! Counting!) the number of conversations we have had about the importance of stocktake. And they almost always occur when I could actually be doing fucking stocktake!
If the conversations about the importance of stocktake don't occur when I am actually doing stocktake then they occur when I should be doing the roster which is another god-awful task I have to endure on a weekly basis. Essentially, whenever I have a task that needs to be done to a dead-line I am sat down and told how important deadlines are. I have made my peace with the fact that my supposed 8-hour Monday shift is actually an 11-12 hour Monday shift because of the fucking roster but it is just made longer by these stupid discussions I keep getting subjected to.
I'm certainly under no illusions in this job as to why it is called 'work' and not 'fun time'. Wish it was fun time though. I would like to get paid for fun time. hmmmm does that make it sound a little bit like I want to be a hooker? Cos that's not how I intended it. Ah well.
I've always wondered how hookers can handle their job. I guess it's that whole 'just lie back and think of the mother-land thing.' But seriously, I don't think I could do it. Imagine if the guy was really smelly, or really old, or really hairy, or had really yucky teeth, or any number of other gross things. I'm not sure that the rare time you got the hot, yummy, toned guy would make up for those other times. Because, lets face it, which of the guys I just described is going to be more likely to use a hooker?
If it worked out like in Pretty Woman that would be nice. But I bet that doesn't actually happen in real life. Just like in real life I didn't go to Hogwarts. :(
Which would be better, flying or being invisible? (For the record, no I'm not high or drunk right now. I just thought of it because I mentioned Hogwarts) I think probably I would prefer to be able to fly cos what can you use being invisible for other than spying on people? Not a lot really. And does the invisibility come with silencing as well? Cos if it didn't then being invisible isn't going to help you much in your spying unless you are also really good at being quiet.
But yeah, I think it would get boring pretty quickly just spying on people. It'd make me feel guilty too. And what if you decided to spy on the guy you were interested in and all you witnessed was him burping, farting and scratching his balls? Ok so maybe that would serve you right for spying on him in the first place but, nevertheless, it would be disappointing. It would give you a nice insight into what marriage will be like though. Cos that's pretty much all guys do once they've actually bagged the girl right?
Or what if you decided to walk invisibly around your house and your flatmate/parents/whoever you live with thought you were out so did something thinking they were alone. Like deciding to walk nakedly around your house. Or to have sex on the couch. Or something else you don't want to watch. That's never going to be pleasant. Unless that was your plan in the first place and you wanted them to think you were out while you invisibly watched them. Hopefully that would never be the case if you still lived at home with your parents. And even if you don't, shame on you for (again) using your invisibility for spying.
Flying though? That's a lot more productive. Running late for work? That's okay you can fly there. Big traffic jam? That's okay you can fly over it. Want to take a holiday to America but can't afford it? No problem, just fly yourself!
I think I have adequately proved my point here. Invisible, bad. Flying, good.
I read a book when I was a kid about a rabbit (a talking rabbit who wore clothes so not just a rabbit) who one day while he was out playing discovered that if he rubbed his stomach and wiggled his nose at the same time he would turn into a rusty nail. Yep, that was his magic trick - turning into a rusty nail. Not just a nail but a rusty nail.
Anyway, he was being chased by someone evil one day (I can't remember whether it was an evil rabbit, a human or what) and realised that he could get away by turning into a rusty nail. So, he rubbed his stomach and wiggled his nose and turned into a rusty nail. Unfortunately the evil whatever it was saw him disappear and upon investigation of the spot the bunny had been in discovered a rusty old nail. Now, the evil thing was much cleverer than me because he instantly realised that the nail must, of course, be the bunny rabbit. (I on the other hand would never have figured that one out. I would probably have assumed he stood on a mine and was obliterated or something. Guess that wouldn't be in a kids book though.) So, being that he was evil, he took the rusty nail and hammered it into a nearby wall. (no idea where he got the hammer from, maybe he was carrying one around just in case)
It took something like 5 years for the wall the rabbit had been hammered into to be pulled down and for the rabbit to be freed. His mum was very happy when he came home and told her the story. She had been very worried that her son was missing for so many years!
After reading that story I always hoped that one day I would be out playing and discover that if I did two things at once it would do something magical. I really hoped it would be something a little better than turning into a rusty nail though. I mean, lets face it, you may as well not be able to anything magical if all you can do is turn into a rusty nail. That's pretty bloody useless. (It wasn't even useful for the rabbit in the story since he lost 5 years of his life sitting stuck in a wall. I doubt the evil thing was going to kill him so he probably ended up worse off.)
Yeah this post is getting beyond crazy now. I'm going to give up and stop writing now.
Update: I just looked the book up. (It's Solomon the Rusty Nail by the way) Anyway I got it wrong and he didn't rub his tummy and wiggle his nose He actually wiggled his toes and rubbed his nose. Sorry for leading you astray there. Also, the evil thing was a one-eyed cat so maybe he would have been in a little trouble had he not turned into a rusty nail. It's just a pity he didn't choose a more opportune moment rather than while the cat was looking. share this: facebook
I'm not sure if this happens to everyone or just me (I do have my suspicions that it's just me) but sometimes I like one line of a song so much that I can't stop listening to it. Not the whole song, just that one line. I'll start a song from the beginning and as soon as I get past the line I like I'll hit back and start it again. This process can repeat for my entire journey to wherever I'm going.
Yeah, yeah I know what you're all saying right now. You are crazy Holly, that's a very odd thing to do. My response to that? Well of course I'm crazy, I think that fact was established a very long time ago! I am under no illusions as to my level of crazy.
Do you know what I really hate? STOCKTAKE!!! Yup, I hate, hate, HATE it. It's so fucking retarded and bloody boring to boot. (ha I wonder if the phrase 'to boot' is one of those very British things that means any American readers have no idea what I was just saying. Not sure, it could be American too. I have no fucking clue.)
So, on a Wednesday night I get to work and I start on stocktake. I prepare the count sheets (by prepare I mean print), hand them to my counting boys (by counting boys I mean the two guys I suckered into helping) and enter all of the invoices (by invoices I mean the fucking shit-load of invoices since we order so much god-damn stock). I then help out with a bit of counting (cups. For some reason counting cups has become my thing. Doesn't make any sense since I hate counting cups) Once counting is done 8 hours has usually passed so it's midnight and home time. I have no idea how that all takes me 8 hours cos on paper it isn't a lot. But it does. So there!
Thursday dawns and I grumpily get out of bed and head down to the hell-hole that is my work. I take the count sheets from the night before and add them up (sometimes I will have done this the night before or got the boys to do it the night before. Other times the count has taken so fucking long I have to add it up on Thursday.) Once they are all added I type it into the computer and get the wastage book. This is when the nightmare really begins. It's such a big site we usually have 2-3 pages of wastage. Two or three PAGES!! It's insane. How the hell do the staff there damage so much stock? How? I'll tell you how. Because they are retarded! They are retarded and stupid and dumb and can't even sell a large drink without dropping the cup on the floor, standing on it, slipping over and banging their head! Ok maybe that doesn't happen EVERY time someone sells a large drink but I bet it has happened!
It is then time to print out a summary of all the variances and start re-counting. (hmm should that be 'recounting'. I don't think so since I actually am counting for a second time not remembering the count from the night before. God help me, I try never to remember the count from the night before so I'm definitely not recounting it. Although I am recounting it right now in the telling of this story. Help! I've gone disastrously off-topic here!)
Anyway my boss is usually on my back by this point demanding the finished stocktake. It's just never gonna happen mate. The place is too huge and stocktake is too stupid for me to have it done that quickly. So he demands it, I hedge, he gets annoyed and sits me down to tell me how important stocktake is, I wonder why if it's so important to get it done quickly he is wasting an hour of my time telling me about its importance, he prattles on some more, I daydream about the day I have a job that doesn't include stocktake, he tells me how wonderful he is at stocktake, I think to myself 'THEN GO AND FUCKING DO IT YOUR FUCKING SELF!!!) I kid you not - this is a regular Thursday occurrence now. I can't even count (gah! Counting!) the number of conversations we have had about the importance of stocktake. And they almost always occur when I could actually be doing fucking stocktake!
If the conversations about the importance of stocktake don't occur when I am actually doing stocktake then they occur when I should be doing the roster which is another god-awful task I have to endure on a weekly basis. Essentially, whenever I have a task that needs to be done to a dead-line I am sat down and told how important deadlines are. I have made my peace with the fact that my supposed 8-hour Monday shift is actually an 11-12 hour Monday shift because of the fucking roster but it is just made longer by these stupid discussions I keep getting subjected to.
I'm certainly under no illusions in this job as to why it is called 'work' and not 'fun time'. Wish it was fun time though. I would like to get paid for fun time. hmmmm does that make it sound a little bit like I want to be a hooker? Cos that's not how I intended it. Ah well.
I've always wondered how hookers can handle their job. I guess it's that whole 'just lie back and think of the mother-land thing.' But seriously, I don't think I could do it. Imagine if the guy was really smelly, or really old, or really hairy, or had really yucky teeth, or any number of other gross things. I'm not sure that the rare time you got the hot, yummy, toned guy would make up for those other times. Because, lets face it, which of the guys I just described is going to be more likely to use a hooker?
If it worked out like in Pretty Woman that would be nice. But I bet that doesn't actually happen in real life. Just like in real life I didn't go to Hogwarts. :(
Which would be better, flying or being invisible? (For the record, no I'm not high or drunk right now. I just thought of it because I mentioned Hogwarts) I think probably I would prefer to be able to fly cos what can you use being invisible for other than spying on people? Not a lot really. And does the invisibility come with silencing as well? Cos if it didn't then being invisible isn't going to help you much in your spying unless you are also really good at being quiet.
But yeah, I think it would get boring pretty quickly just spying on people. It'd make me feel guilty too. And what if you decided to spy on the guy you were interested in and all you witnessed was him burping, farting and scratching his balls? Ok so maybe that would serve you right for spying on him in the first place but, nevertheless, it would be disappointing. It would give you a nice insight into what marriage will be like though. Cos that's pretty much all guys do once they've actually bagged the girl right?
Or what if you decided to walk invisibly around your house and your flatmate/parents/whoever you live with thought you were out so did something thinking they were alone. Like deciding to walk nakedly around your house. Or to have sex on the couch. Or something else you don't want to watch. That's never going to be pleasant. Unless that was your plan in the first place and you wanted them to think you were out while you invisibly watched them. Hopefully that would never be the case if you still lived at home with your parents. And even if you don't, shame on you for (again) using your invisibility for spying.
Flying though? That's a lot more productive. Running late for work? That's okay you can fly there. Big traffic jam? That's okay you can fly over it. Want to take a holiday to America but can't afford it? No problem, just fly yourself!
I think I have adequately proved my point here. Invisible, bad. Flying, good.
I read a book when I was a kid about a rabbit (a talking rabbit who wore clothes so not just a rabbit) who one day while he was out playing discovered that if he rubbed his stomach and wiggled his nose at the same time he would turn into a rusty nail. Yep, that was his magic trick - turning into a rusty nail. Not just a nail but a rusty nail.
Anyway, he was being chased by someone evil one day (I can't remember whether it was an evil rabbit, a human or what) and realised that he could get away by turning into a rusty nail. So, he rubbed his stomach and wiggled his nose and turned into a rusty nail. Unfortunately the evil whatever it was saw him disappear and upon investigation of the spot the bunny had been in discovered a rusty old nail. Now, the evil thing was much cleverer than me because he instantly realised that the nail must, of course, be the bunny rabbit. (I on the other hand would never have figured that one out. I would probably have assumed he stood on a mine and was obliterated or something. Guess that wouldn't be in a kids book though.) So, being that he was evil, he took the rusty nail and hammered it into a nearby wall. (no idea where he got the hammer from, maybe he was carrying one around just in case)
It took something like 5 years for the wall the rabbit had been hammered into to be pulled down and for the rabbit to be freed. His mum was very happy when he came home and told her the story. She had been very worried that her son was missing for so many years!
After reading that story I always hoped that one day I would be out playing and discover that if I did two things at once it would do something magical. I really hoped it would be something a little better than turning into a rusty nail though. I mean, lets face it, you may as well not be able to anything magical if all you can do is turn into a rusty nail. That's pretty bloody useless. (It wasn't even useful for the rabbit in the story since he lost 5 years of his life sitting stuck in a wall. I doubt the evil thing was going to kill him so he probably ended up worse off.)
Yeah this post is getting beyond crazy now. I'm going to give up and stop writing now.
Update: I just looked the book up. (It's Solomon the Rusty Nail by the way) Anyway I got it wrong and he didn't rub his tummy and wiggle his nose He actually wiggled his toes and rubbed his nose. Sorry for leading you astray there. Also, the evil thing was a one-eyed cat so maybe he would have been in a little trouble had he not turned into a rusty nail. It's just a pity he didn't choose a more opportune moment rather than while the cat was looking. share this: facebook
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