MONDAY, MONDAY, HERE AGAIN

Monday 19 November 2007

I forget to mention a few things about last week.

The guitar arrived from the SAMH on Wednesday. It’s been signed by Stuart Braithwaite (Mogwai), Pop Up, The Passengers, Sam Cory (River Detectives), Jerry Dammers (The Specials), Michael Hargen, Danse or Die, Fortune Drive, The Amphetamines, The Daintees, 5th and Pontiac and Stroszek.

For the second week in a row I cried during “the Secret Millionaire” and once again it was the sight of a young child in tears, at being given some money to make a better life for herself, that set me off. Tonight’s episode also featured the Salford Lads’ Club, which features on the sleeve of The Smiths’ “The Queen Is Dead” album.

On Thursday I took a Family Care Day off to look after Flick. She picked up throughout the day and never fell asleep once, unlike myself. She was also well enough to kick my arse at Snakes and Ladders and The Shopping Game. She’s such a board and card game hustler. That’s my girl.

For the umpteenth day in a row our post was delivered at 3pm!! It’s bad enough that our normal posited usually turns up between 12 and 1. 3pm? That’s a joke. As much as I supported the posties throughout their recent strike it’s sometimes hard to continue to back them when the services is so poor. We had a non-existent second post taken off us (although I think they’ve actually binned the first and kept the second), postal charges continue to rise, not to mention the more complicated system for charging for posting letters, “big” letters and small packets!

On Friday it was back to getting the bus to work. On the WMESB™, there were 2.5 passengers (one got on at my stop but got off at Rosyth so I’m only counting her as a half because she only went half way) and for some reason, that still isn’t clear, the driver stopped just before Blackhall for 7/8 minutes. He wandered up the bus, then down the bus, then up, then down. He opened the front door, phoned someone, got back on, closed the door, opened the door again, closed the door and then sat down and drove off and not once did he think to inform us what was going on.

Friday was, as previously mentioned, quiz night. I forgot to mention all the team names: The Terrahawks, Fat Kids Always Win at Seasaw (my favourite), The Beasting Appreciation Society, Quizmas Crackers, Britney’s Briefs, Good Times and/or Bad Times, Woozy Bankers, The Team Formerly Known As Magiwhip, Only Smarties Have The Answer, Quizteama Aguilera, No Scooby Do and the imaginatively entitled Laura Hair’s team.

On this morning’s WMESB™ there was 1 passenger, yours truly, which brings the average number of passengers on that bus down to a round 2 again! I got off the D7 at the Ferrytoll. It changed to a 53 and as I got inside the building I saw the X57 appeared behind the 53. I wondered out, overtook a ditherer who didn’t seem to know if it was New York or New Year, and made my way to the X57. I stood at his door, waiting for it to open. But he ignored me and moved the bus forward as the 53 went on its way. So I walk forward to the X57 as yet another ditherer skips in front of me. He opens the doors as I give him an absolutely evil stare and boy does he know it. Meanwhile the queue-jumping dimwit fumbles in her bag for her ticket and proceeds to drop all her belongings on the floor. I make sure my loud exhalation of air is heard at the back of the bus. Finally she gets her life together and finds her ticket. I finally step on to the bus, hold my Megarider ticket up and say, “Transfer”. He wants to take it off me and punch it but as it’s already been punched I continue that I’d just come off the D7 that had pulled in in front of him and therefore it doesn’t need punching because my journey form Dunfermline to Edinburgh is in two parts. (It pisses me off that I have to keep explaining to Stagecoach drivers how their own transfer system works). He makes a begrudging grumbling noise as I take my seat. I put on my mp3 player and watch the traffic for the rest of the journey. I didn’t thank him when I got off. I always make a point of thanking drivers who have got me from A to B with the minimum of fuss and on time. This is a practice I’ve instilled in Felicity.

I’m not in a sociable mood today. I like rain and I don’t mind wind but put the two together and throw in some faulty heating and my feet are like blocks of ice. On the way into work I saw three brass monkeys crying their eyes out. I’m filling myself up with hot coffee and the thought of a hot water bottle tonight.

Major TV clash tonight. Monday is normally quiz night with Mastermind on at 1930, followed by University Challenge at 2000 but Watchdog has been moved to BBC1 at 1930 (I suspect to accommodate the England game on Wednesday) and there’s a Dispatches documentary on Channel 4 featuring Mark Thomas investigating the not-so squeaky world of Coca Cola. The problem is that we’ve never had our analogue aerial put in and as a result we can only tape the channel we’re on! I’ve mentioned Sky+ to the GLW a number of times but she isn’t biting yet!

When you’re self-employed you don’t have to worry about petty office bureaucracy like having to do a 1 o’clock all week for two weeks out of four. I hate one o’clock lunches. I’m always starving at 12 and besides the little “angels” from the school across the road get out for lunch at 1245 and the local supermarket is swarming with them.

Tuesday 20 November 2007

WMESB™: Only 1 passenger today, which was of course yours truly
Driver: Approaching a narrow stretch of road near the Ferrytoll the driver took exception to a white van man for some reason. All I heard was “Look at the size of me (I think he meant his bus but he'll never see 18 stone again). Thick? It’s you that’s fuckin’ thick”. Charming.
This morning’s mp3 tunes included: “Portions for Foxes” (Rilo Kiley), “Torn” (Natalie Imbruglia), “Do The Standing Still” (The Table), “Public Image” (PiL), “Back Together” (Babybird), “Freakin’ Out (Graham Coxon), “Obscurity Knocks” (Trashcan Sinatras) and “Eat For Two” (10,000 Maniacs).

Last night I watched Watchdog, University Challenge and Dispatches on Channel 4 + 1, which was about Coca-Cola and how naughty and bad they are. Boo! Hiss!

Following on from the battles with Stagecoach, the latest company to feel my wrath is Life Property Management, the factors for the area I live in. We had to pay £150 when we moved in and then we didn’t get a bill for 3 years! The most recent bill, the cause of my annoyance (and those of my fellow neighbours), included a number of “interesting” charges. The most contentious one being that the debt of non-payers (and the legal charges in pursuing it) is spread between those who do pay their bills.

A recent exchange has just angered me even more. I was promised a map of the areas covered by this company (I believe we’re also being charged for another area that is totally separate form ours and I wanted to check which bits we should be paying for) and yet when I chased it up I was told it would now cost £10+ VAT!!! I only want a photocopy! And if we want to look at the accounts of the “trust” account that has been set up for all our payments, charges, interests etc then we’ll incur another charge!! At least Dick Turpin wore a mask.

There’s a meeting on Thursday and I’m in two minds as to whether I want to go because I’ll end up even more frustrated than normal. If they’re as arrogant in person as they are in their written correspondence there could well be a lynching and maybe a hanging or two. I’m determined to stay at the back and keep a low profile and take notes.

Yesterday I got some junk mail, which I tend to get quite a bit of down to the number of competitions and prize draws I enter, and one of them was a Formula One catalogue. I flicked through it and there were SEVEN Lewis Hamilton biographies. He’s had one season in F1, albeit a good one, and suddenly everyone is writing his life story!! As Gordon Ramsay would say, fuck me!