This morning after a late night and a stupidly early start, I made my "quick and easy chilli beef" and it turned out just fab.
It's just a pity that that was as good as my day got.
After lunch, a peppered steak I had prepared, I set off to the training base place down by the docks, prepared for the riggers ahead. In my bag was the draft CV I had worked on the night before.
I walked to the bus stop that would take me half way to where I need to go, the rest of the journey would be on foot as it's quicker than waiting for the (sometime) connecting bus. I was ten yards away from the bus stop when something bordering on the miraculous happened, the bus sped past me a good 5 minutes ahead of time instead of the usual 10 minutes late.
FECK!!!
Ah well, I'll just have to pick up the pace a bit if I'm to make it on time.
I start to think about the route now that I'm on Shanks' pony, there is a shorter route and a longer route, one is direct and 10 mins quicker the other is more circuitous and 15mins longer.
The first route is quicker but goes through some seedy, run-down and half derelict dockland areas that are sparsely populated with normal decent people but densely populated with smeg heads and ne'er-do-wells intent on no good.
I was slightly late getting to class.
I handed over my CV and after some constructive critissism I was handed back "toilet paper", it could have gone worse, the "mentor" could have laughed and got everyone in the room to point at me and laugh as well. I'll re-do it tomorrow for tonight I have other plans, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Now I'm given the choice:-
- Letter writing, or
- Do the English and maths stage 2 mocks
It's at about this time an impromptu party breaks out. One of the Mentors (who are all women) is leaving, she's not just pregnant, she's very pregnant and "about to pop" (her words). I seem to be the only one doing anything constructive, everyone, students and mentors alike are having cakes and juice. WTF! Are they all 5 years old or something, can't they see I'm trying to concentrate?
I know I seem to be a bit churlish, you're right, I was a bit of a Grinch. But try and see it from my point of view, I've been out of education for a looooong time now and getting what is left of my grey matter back into action isn't going as seamlessly as I'd envisaged. I mean, anyone who reads this blog will see that I have a rather tenuous grasp of the basics of punctuation and if it wasn't for the spell check function I am convinced you would all think that if I wasn't actually 7 then that at least has to be my mental age.
If they offered me cake once, they offered me it half a dozen times.
"No thank you, and I have a drink, thank you."
Then over the top of the monitor screen, I'm drawn into a conversation about what football team I support. Who is this tard? Inside my head I'm screaming "FECK OFF!!" But I politely tell him I support rugby union, he clamps up and leaves me to it.
Good, next question...
I'm now on to the maths section. Everyone else is onto the unwrapping of baby gifts.
Gods its getting worse I swear it.
Oooohh!
Aaahhhh!
Isn't that lovely...
Half way thru' the maths section I suddenly realise it's gone quiet, I look up and around me, I'm all alone in the room. At last some peace and quiet, eyes down and continue...
All hell breaks loose in the room next door, thru' the wall that my desk is next to, the party kicks off again, with new people who haven't seen all the gifts and now I hear muffled
Oooohh!
Aaahhhh!
Isn't that lovely...
A little later and I'm 3/4 the way thru' the maths. It's only "simple" stuff like percentages, fractions a little algebra, some tables work. It's not rocket science, but gods I feel like I'm trying to work out how to put the first multi national team of astronauts on Mars!
They return, "to get some work done", ha!
The conversation now turns to the more technical aspects of child birth.
EWW, EWW!
I take a wild stab at the last 6 questions, it doesn't matter as I'm over time any way, grab my bag and flee these wyrd sisters.
Look, I like women, it's just that after the conception most blokes are happy to live in ignorance of what goes on with the mother and developing child, until said sprog is born and starts to need things like changing,feeding and bathing and such.
I'm sort of like Prof Higgins from Pygmalion.
I am in so much trouble over this entry.
In the end I ended up with a massive head ache, a lack of appetite and a long walk home, the only thing missing was the rain...
11 comments:
I think no less of you for your views on childbirth. It's fuckin' gory as hell, dude. I could never watch those Lamaze videos from the 1970's. Ugh.
And my favorite part of that post was:
smeg heads and ne'er-do-wells.
I'm so glad you approve. At least I have one female supporter, or did I just miss the mark by a parsec, and you're f*&$'&g with me?
I simply adore you, E. I really do. SPellcheck oor not.
And I don't even like to talk about childbirth and I did it twice. That's all I'm going to say.
Yup, been there twice. Not very nice to witness all that blood and stuff coming out of your missus. Has to be done though! On the second birth I was sitting in the corner reading a copy of Nuts. It actually was a case of, 'ladies, don't expect any help on a Tuesday'. For all you Yanks out there, thats A quote from a rather funny series of ads for the lads magazine. I did help in the end though.
What the heck are you doing all that nonsence for Ed? Jack it in now its beneath you. You're a retired Chief P.O. not an 18 year old Y.T.S. Enroll on some cool Masters course at John Moores or Liverpool. Something you're realy interested in. Now is the time. Treat yourself, you have earned it my friend!!! In the very least M.Sc. looks great on your headstone. Morbid? Hey thats me!
In the immortal words of Jon Rambo, "Back there I could fly a gunship, I could drive a tank, I was in charge of million dollar equipment [thats you dude], back here I can't even hold a job PARKING CARS [OK, not quite you, but you get the idea]!
I was once in charge of the propulsion plant and all Axillary machinery of a 20,000 ton through deck cruiser.
Cycling to Tesco's isn't the same somehow.
I used to carry a copy of Mommie Dearest and pretend I was reading it at the doctor's office, just to mess with people.
I'm not messing with you, though, Ed. I had a C-section and the whole time all I could think about was the part in The Empire Strikes Back when Han Solo cuts open the TaunTaun and sticks Luke Skywalker inside.
A geek to the core.
'They don't advertise for killers in the newspaper. That was my profession. Ex-cop. Ex-blade runner.' Ex-killer. Thats what I used to be
I'm on your side too Ed. Being single and childless there is no way I would have been able to sit through that topic of conversation. No Way.
It's nice to know I'm not going to be ostracised for not going all gooey and broody.
I still can't believe that no one asked, "Did it rain?".
NO! It didn't, it PISSED DOWN!!!
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