Crueller Still........

Oh my brothers, they have forced me out on to the streets once more. To a place called Work. Me, with my nerves, having to go there. With my nervous disposition and everything. I have a condition, you see. Husband got it diagnosed for me: its called work-shie - I think its Latin. More commonly, the last word is pronounced Shy.

I begged Husband to go and get some sort of herbal cure while I lay down. And also begged him to phone in sick for me. He returned from the Pharmacist empty-handed. He told me the nice young man advised a verbal cure. I looked at him weakly with non-comprehension. Husband recited the ancient mantra passed over to him from many generations: Get off your big arse and get to work like everybody else, you lazy cow. The insensitivity of it, o brothers, thats what I find hard to live with.

In the stockroom at the sports shop, unloading stuff with some 17 year old boy. Worried about a girl he's seeing. Thinks they might "do it". Scared about his nether regions. Frightened he's too small. I told him every boy thinks that because they saw their Dad's one when they were little. They grow up thinking their's is smaller than their Dad's and inadequate. I mean everyone know's that shit.

He begged me to look at it and give my opinion. He felt he could trust me, he said. So we locked the door and he presented himself to me. He was bloody enormous! The silly bugger. He was huge! These bloody blokes. Put it away I told him. That would satisfy any bloody girl!

Then he had the cheek to scrounge a lighter off me! Haven't I transformed his life enough? Bloody hell! Still, all in a day's work. Back to the stockroom tomorrow - new England shirts arriving. What a load of old shit!

Phobias

What is it with this work shit??? I'm back there again, at the sports shop, stocktaking again!!!

Why??? Why am I stifled like this???? Why am i being held back as an artist - again!!! Tho' I suspect the £8 an hour has something to do with it.

But I have a phobia about work and that. I've had the tests and everything. A bloke in an office in Hounslow High St told me that I'm scared of work. Had to pay him £50 first tho'. Funny, i can't seem to get hold him lately. And they're very unimpressed at work with the certificate he wrote out.

Got a photo published in the local rag. As above. Bloody twats chose the worse one! Shit-for-brains two penny publication! Not even good enough for bog paper.

Am miserable. Time for a fag. And a drink. The cat bit me.

Forgive me....

Treasures, forgive me for not appearing on here recently. How I've missed my loyal mates. I sort of lost my way last week. I kind of floated and didn't get anywhere. Walking in Space - wasn't that a song in the musical Hair?

Been working at that wretched rugby ground shop. There's been a match virtually every weekend. And last week, 2nd May, I had a bit of a spat with the supervisor, left me feeling wretched all last week.

Have always had a good relationship with this woman but since she's got her best mate a supervisor's job too, she's been a nightmare. I don't know why. Its like we're back in school and she can act Big when her mate's around. Or its like at my kid's school, when an angelic little girl can be a bitch when she pairs up with the class show-off. Anyway, complained didn't I. By e-mail, the cowardly way. But it didn't stop me feeling bullied and wretched.

Spent the week pacing around, wondering whether to quit or not. I took my turmoil to church the next day. Did i get peace of mind? did I shite! 3 christenings that day! There wasn't room for inner sanctum! That idle bloody vicar! Go back to doing 'em in the afternoons!!! Not sure that man's ever been ordained!

Not much else to report. Bought some wooden coat hangers from John Lewis. Its my dream to one day have a warderobe and cupboard full of wooden ones - making the nasty metal and plastic hangers a thing of the past. They laughed at me - told me it couldn't be done - but I'll show them! I'll prove them wrong one day! Then who'll be laughing then, eh?

Er - thats enough ambition for now.

Just a quick one before I go to work. Got to help set up a new shop today at the rugby stadium. Hate the thought of it - why don't i just say no??? Still, 8 pound an hour is 8 pound an hour! It will help towards my 50th birthday party in 6 weeks. Moral of the tale: Never book something you can't really afford. Its a posh room in a council building and even with the 20% discount for being a resident, its a bloody fortune. A fortune I have to pay the balance of next week. Part of that is a £ 250 deposit for any damages but i won't get that back until at least March, knowing that council. And assuming there are no damages to claim.

Told them today i can only work till 3. Pretended I had childcare "issues". I couldn't do the normal 10 tll 6. I'll go mad! And the other week there was some right old cow there who kept bossing us all around. Snarled at her in the end but you do get these little Hitlers who think they're an executive or something. But they're only casual like me who have kids and don't normally work. I don't know why they have to be weird about these things.

Went to see my mum this week. Felt a bit sheepish after our row on the phone. But i had 200 Benson and Hedges with me to soothe the wounds. She's a cheap type like me, can be so easily bought. Personally i think they're the best sort to know.

She gave me money to get a gift credit card thing for my two grown up nephews at Costa Coffee. Now you'd think this would be easy to do. But no. One Costa in Kingston drew a complete blank, one told me to go on-line - i told him to go somewhere else! - Would M&S or WH Smith ever tell you to go on-line instead of taking the bloody money and giving over the gift card??? - and some other Costa kept telling me that I can top it up and gave me a form to fill in! I just came out and said it by that point "you don't know what i'm talking about, do you?" - and left quickly.

So I was reduced to Starbucks - which i hate. But say what you like about them, they took my mums' money and gave me two credit cards with 25 pound each on them. They did not piss about,. I also got a voucher for a free coffee next time i came in. But I don't like you, I wanted to say. But didn't. Will give it to Husband, he likes all that rubbish.

I go to a little cafe for my takeaway coffee. i won't go to those big chains unless i have to. And their coffee always tastes like they've poured boiled water over a jar of Nescafe. it blows my head off !

Well, time for a fag and then work - wah!