The trouble with working somewhere within a two mile radius of your house is you're bound to run into someone you know every once in a while. Annoyingly, this person rarely comes in the form of someone you actually like, as was shown by this week's surprise guest: a girl I knew from primary school who once threatened to 'bray' me. I'm not entirely sure how she thought she was going to do that, seeing as she was in year 5 and I was in year 6, obviously making me superior. And bigger. (Plus, my mum was best mates with all the teachers, so they all had my back...). Anyway, her appearance neatly coincided with my mother's uprooting of all our old Famous Five books, leading me to have an entire week of reading them and reverting back to exactly how I was in primary school, give or take a full-time job or two. Reading Famous Five at twenty definitely brings with it a new perspective that I, understandably, overlooked as a child. For example, the notion that George will most likely grow up to be either a) gay, or b) Rizzo from Grease, and that Julian was obviously very anally retentive as a child... It's worrying how, or perhaps why, I have started to pick up on these characteristics, but as I say - life is moving very slowly.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Name the goat competition? You've got to be kid-ding!
Slowly, but surely, full-time work is tearing away at my soul, forcing me to watch as small chunks are gradually ripped away with every 8am start and every 8pm finish with the additional, 'Can I have a cornish pasty, hunnybunny'. (No word of a lie, someone actually said that to me). I've even taking to getting up early on my days off so I don't waste them as they are something of a rarity and in the past five weeks I've only had about four, one of which I accidentally slept through because me and Peter stayed up all night playing chess and MarioKart. The sheer ecstasy I feel at currently being in the lead in our chess tournament simply expresses how little is happening in my life right now. Well, unless you count my continuous run of wins whilst playing Hangman at work (even though one of mine was unfairly dismissed - how is 'k-a-r-m-a k-a-r-m-a k-a-r-m-a k-a-r-m-a k-a-r-m-a c-h-a-m-e-l-e-o-n' not a real Hangman?!). Clearly, the days at work have been moving relatively slowly - last week we spent an entire hour discussing Mel C's solo career, and after that topic had worn thin we moved onto celebrity lookalikes. Without trying to sound boastful, I'm pretty sure I won that also with this my Christina Aguilera/Faye from Steps comparison. Uncanny. Highlights of this week have also included my entering a goat naming competition (Juliet for a girl, Sebastian for a boy - if I don't win, someone's going down) and choking on a FruitPolo as I try and talk to a customer whilst simultaneously attempting to disguise the fact that I am eating said FruitPolo. Embarrassing, painful and, had the next customer not been wearing an extremely amusing 'Save The Ring-Tailed Lima' t-shirt, potentially shift-ruining. We've also started a new game which involves monitoring a steadily rotting tomato. I wish there was more to it, but sadly, that is the only aim of the game: see how mouldy the tomato gets before the cleaner notices it and throws it away. I think this somewhat describes the type of establishment I work in, along with the list of rules on the wall, including: Do not lick your fingers whilst working. God help us.