fucked off

all work related, for which I feel shouldn't tell you. but I am. Well fucked off.

--

At home. Alone. A leprechaun has stolen the S and left me the man-in-charge. I think there was a program out there called that. I'm not living in a sitcom though. For the above reasons. Grr!

--

Speaking of sit-somethings, I've been watching Prison Break on the olde computer. It's OK. Addictive but nothing special. Seriously fucked off with a scene in episode 12 where a rubbish bag plugged a two foot hole against a 20 foot high water pressure. Fuck Off!

In fact the whole set up can be surmised by 'The Incredible Machine meets Apollo 13' - An intricate, highly thought-out and well executed plan is hit by an asteroid that should have been blown up by a nuclear warhead delivered by Ben Affleck and Bruce Willis, but before you panic, don't worry it'll all be right on the night (of the execution).

Aim to get a hold on the remaining episodes soon to knock this bastard off the must-watch tv (oxymoron?) list being bandied around at the mo.

--

The sweet sounds are heaven. Even Bob D's 'Oxford Town' ain't too discordant these days (I find this song strangely UK appropriate cause I have a fucked up word-association=happy brain connectivity thingamajig). So good to come home and thrash something that makes you happy instead of fearing that the laptop will shake itself to bits (the shitty speakers of which have previously provided the sounds).

In a
bopping
to the sounds
kitchen meets MAN

moment, I cooked myself dinner. In the understanding that a) I'm poor, b) cheap & c) skinny - I've taken it as a personal challenge to:

EAT THE ENTIRE CONTENTS OF THE FRIDGE (TM)

[DISCLAIMER: 1, in a vaguely healthy kind of way 2, in the time remaining between now and when S comes back (I want her to think I cleaned the fridge!)]

In fact, I started yesterday. I had a block of tofu bbbd* of 11 JUL 06, therefore in DIRE need of eating. I ate it. I ate it good.

Fried, coated in rice flour (very effective soft-tofu batter!). I had 1/3rd block of the fried stuff left as entree tonight, and added to it:

1 Med-Large Courgette
3 Cloves of Garlic
3 Fat RED THAI chillies
3 small spring onions
1 small (slightly manky) pack of asparagus

[* Note * "Don't die just yet" David Holmes = Rocks...]

Anyway stir-fried the above after giving the garlic, chillies and spring onions the once-over with the mortar and pestle (the NEW Chef's Mate!). Delicious and hot and vaguely healthy. This leaves:

1 courgette, 1.5 cucumbers, (now) 3 beers, ~100g Stilton cheese, 50g budget cheese, 2 eggs, 1 small bunch of coriander, 2 green peppers, 1 lettuce, fresh ginger, 1 tube tomato paste, a couple of cherry tomatoes, an assortment of pickles and dressings (incl. salad cream (it tastes sooooooo good with chili sambal...) 0.75 loaf of bread, 0.5 small container of marge AND about 50 assorted green and red chillies...

I think that the pain rating of the meals over the next few day might out score the taste!

Wish me lcuk.
Fcuk.
Hcuck

!

The jinx!

Gave myself a dose of the jinx today with my NOT want towards work.  Train was late on the way to work and I came THIS close on the local station to saying fuck the money and walking home and calling in sick. 

Not that I'd have been paid for it.  I signed a contract where my work is poorly paid, sick leave isn't covered, I get no bonuses at all and I still have to give notice that I'm going to take time off.  I wouldn't stick with it if it were not for the poorly pay.  I need every last cent.  Grrr!

Anyway, late, unimpressed and slightly hungover (the three day kind of hangover - you know, the slow ache in the pit of your stomach and full body realisation of the punishment you've recently been giving it) at work to find a heavy schedule of work and bullshit meetings interrupting the productivity process.

So I stayed late to finish up and complete my precious 'billable' hours. And leaving late from work, I find that the rail network is still in flux and I get to wait another 30 minutes going nowhere.  I tell you some Mondays just ain't worth waking for.

--

Fortunately, I've not let the work and transport issues impede my life-o-solo.  And I made good on my promise to hang out with JJ and book with him a boys weekend away.  That's done now and I'm home blasting Hurt out of the surprisingly loud little speakers I ordered off Amazon in a rash display of my earning potential.  The trip that's lined up should be fun.  It is going to be cheap enough and happily sandwiched in the Friday after 4pm to Sunday midnight slot of NOT interrupting my 'billable' hours. 

--

JJs got a set of scales at the flat.  The digital kind, one tap to turn it on, large LCD screen etc. etc. which appeals to my gadget needs.  It says that I weigh a lot less than I thought, especially given all the bloody beer I've ended up drinking in this place.  I'd not trust the scales, except other users seem to think they are bang on (maybe we are all delusional).  If they are right I've never been less substantial than I am right now!  

I think I'm mirroring this insubstantiality in many facets of my life right now.

...

grumble

I really do NOT want to go to work today!
*grumble, grumble, mutter*
Have the house to myself for the next week, so aim to surf the internet in peace and write the occasional post.  Keep a lookout...