Much as I love my job I hate coming back to work after a nice break.
I took last week off to do the gardens and luckily for me the weather sucked such huge arse that I could do no more than oil the lawnmower.
So I spent the whole week doing fat all.
Wonderful!
The alarms didn't go off at 4:40AM!
I lay in bed every morning, watching the news until six o'clock!
I ate breakfasts!
I took long, lazy soaks in the bath instead of snatched 5AM showers.
I read books.
I watched crappy old movies.
I watched NASA TV on the computer and saw the guys doing their spacewalks.
I cooked real meals instead of grabbing sushi on my usual dash for the train.
I wore out my old PS2 (the PS3 is coming at the weekend).
I ate the Easter Bunny.
And an octopus.
I made a great, fat, Dive shaped depression in my sofa.
I walked around the countryside, cycled and made clattering noises in my gym.
I bought way too many books.
I pounded the fuck out of the local kids at snowballs.
All in all I had a splendid time.
I can thoroughly recommend spending a week doing bugger all.
The only thing is, I forgot what a bloody awful thing my commute is …
I just suffered my usual three-and-a-half hour journey to work this morning; driving through snow to get to Norwich; enduring a crawling, uncomfortable two-and-a-quarter hour train journey accompanied by screaming kids (school holidays) and shouting chav parents on their way to the airport for a week's binge-drinking brawl on some benighted Mediterranean isle (these people were chugging back cans of Stella at six in the morning); cramming onto a stinking tube train full of halitosis and B.O. and finally walking through the rain to the office to discover I'd forgotten my security access widget …
It takes a good week of this crap to become immune to the stink of London, to re-acclimatise myself to getting home all sticky and filthy, binning my clothes and leaping into the shower.
Gack!
Repeat: I love my job, I love my job, I love my job …
16 comments:
What happened to working from home more often?
I've just spent eleven days at home; I have so much crap and so many meetings to catch up on that I'll be in the office for the rest of the week.
Next week I'll be back to a couple of days at home though.
At least you can't smell the halitosis and BO, or can you taste it. Now I have ruined my breakfast.
You do love your job, but it would be nicer if your job were closer to home.
What's the difference between a security access widget and a jemmie bar?
Crikey, things are so security conscious these days !
I remember a few years ago crashing a Christmas party at The Australian Federal Police HQ here in town.
My how things have changed.
That's the trouble, Robyn. I love my job and - much as it stinks and is filthy - I love London; but I also love the peace and quiet of my pretty village on the Norfolk Broads.
There is no job like mine outside London and moving closer to my job would mean exchanging a lovely house in a beautiful area for a crappy little flat in a commuter sinkhole.
Catch 22.
Bummer.
Hanging a jemmy around my neck may look cooler, but I think it would soon get a bit heavy, Monsieur B. You wouldn't believe the various levels of security we have here. Sheesh. But then we have the personal records of over 36,000 schoolgirls so it's not the sort of place we can let folk just wander in.
Quod erat demonstrandum.
You do qualify at 35,999.
i think i might print this post out, sugar, as a reminder NOT to complain about the occasional 48 hour shift i sometimes pull! i mean, i do work from home and when i have an intense project, i am working in jammies or some other sort of casual attire, so thanks for the reminder...it could be worse!
Yes i do feel quite lucky, reading about your return to the smoke. Your week off sounds just grand though. How i'd love to be buying far too many books! Anything you can mention here? I too had some lies-in; one until 9.50 am! Wow. I felt lousy that day though, kind of fuggy. I didn't sleep well last night and feel similarly fuggy but just because i kept waking thinking of my friend. I don't know how you put up with those smells by the way and i can't even list them. Bleck. No wonder Robyn barfed her brekkie.
3 HOURS!?!? Holy quacamole batman...that's insane! I thought my 1 1/2 hours was bad.
I shall never complain again.
Wow.
Love your title by the way. Take a housepoint, Dive. Oh and... See me after.
As you described your holiday in detail I thought... that's what I need to do. Welcome back to the working world dive.
Monsieur B: Hee hee.
Savannah: I actually work a normal number of hours and I love every one of them; it's the stupid travelling that takes a minimum of seven hours a day and sometimes ten to twelve hours. That truly sucks my soul dry.
Lynn: Yes, London truly stinks to high Heaven, but give me a few days back at work to get that coating of cack in my lungs and throat and I won't notice it.
9:50AM? Sheesh! If I lie-in after six I get a headache all day.
Shazza: one-and-a-half hours would be bliss!
Lynn: Hee hee hee. Please don't spank me … too hard.
Recharging the old batteries is nice, Rich. Go on; spoil yourself. Do what I did and don't tell anyone you're taking time off, then they won't hassle you and ruin it.
All that time off and you never played a guitar?
Are you OK?!?
Yes it was quite a lazy lie in although i do go to bed late. Usually about one, regardless of getting up for work and college at 7.20. I'm wide awake at midnight but in the morning could sleep for a week!
You know...there are few things in this world that make me want to throw up more than bad breath. It's like, you get to smell the last thing they ate and then it gets all soured up too.
And you keep stepping back and they keep stepping forward.
A nasty little dance.
Istvanski: I forgot to add that one, but then it kinda goes without saying.
Lynn: Early to bed, early to rise, make you cranky and friendless, so your routine is better than mine.
Maria: I hate it when I'm crammed up against 'em on the tube and they cough their halitosis into my face from three inches away.
Gack!
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