And today's lesson is....
"Somebody else can cook".
The evil that is night shift has decended once again and folks, it IS evil. We came in two hours earlier than scheduled for reasons I shall not go into - not because they're massively classified but rather because they are immensely boring - with a plan, a concept and a good idea of what to do, although our meat and potatoes work for this sort of evening was rather thin on the ground; a weakness of the system that. What is a plan? As an old and well regarded (for a capitalist little tit) boss of mine used to preach, a plan is "That which is changed". Or in this case, shafted by forces beyond our control. No lurking in the dark for us, oh no. On with the uniforms, off over the river to our sister station and take over one of their routine tasks which they'd love to finish but they were busy pissing off home at the end of their shift instead. Bitter, me, about freezing my bollocks off in a cold shed, on tedious work for no result whatsoever because it was born crap, was crap and ended crap? Bitter? Me? Having to wait for four hours for their early watch to poodle in at their convenience, resulting in us extending our shift for two hours at night and getting caught in a traffic jam on the way back? Actually, no, not especially. I'm too tired to care. And this is why somebody else can cook. Well, that and the fact that the house is nearly out of food. But I feel most strongly that the way forward is lunch in my favorate waterside pub with a pint and a newspaper, just as breakfast involved a MaccyD's drivethrough, as offensive as dining there is to everything I hold holy.
On the "News of the Scary"; I've just been offered a photographic commission. A wedding. Oh - my - god. Now, it's a friend and it's something I can do, but photographing weddings is placed at about number 2 on my list of "3'127 things in life that you REALLY shouldn't cock up.....
Oh, and thank you night shift. That sneeze reveals that I *DO* have a chill. Thank you very much.
The evil that is night shift has decended once again and folks, it IS evil. We came in two hours earlier than scheduled for reasons I shall not go into - not because they're massively classified but rather because they are immensely boring - with a plan, a concept and a good idea of what to do, although our meat and potatoes work for this sort of evening was rather thin on the ground; a weakness of the system that. What is a plan? As an old and well regarded (for a capitalist little tit) boss of mine used to preach, a plan is "That which is changed". Or in this case, shafted by forces beyond our control. No lurking in the dark for us, oh no. On with the uniforms, off over the river to our sister station and take over one of their routine tasks which they'd love to finish but they were busy pissing off home at the end of their shift instead. Bitter, me, about freezing my bollocks off in a cold shed, on tedious work for no result whatsoever because it was born crap, was crap and ended crap? Bitter? Me? Having to wait for four hours for their early watch to poodle in at their convenience, resulting in us extending our shift for two hours at night and getting caught in a traffic jam on the way back? Actually, no, not especially. I'm too tired to care. And this is why somebody else can cook. Well, that and the fact that the house is nearly out of food. But I feel most strongly that the way forward is lunch in my favorate waterside pub with a pint and a newspaper, just as breakfast involved a MaccyD's drivethrough, as offensive as dining there is to everything I hold holy.
On the "News of the Scary"; I've just been offered a photographic commission. A wedding. Oh - my - god. Now, it's a friend and it's something I can do, but photographing weddings is placed at about number 2 on my list of "3'127 things in life that you REALLY shouldn't cock up.....
Oh, and thank you night shift. That sneeze reveals that I *DO* have a chill. Thank you very much.
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 1:07 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home