May Day
Today i officially reached middle age. Why? Well I actually heard myself saying, 'time is going so quickly, how is it May already?'
That is what old people used to say when i was a kid. On many levels it is a deeply stupid statement. Time doesnt change. It doesnt go slower or quicker. May comes around on the 5th month of every year. And Christmas i'm pretty sure is fixed firmly in the calendar, so the statement that is next on my middle aged hit list is undoubtedly, 'Christmas comes quicker every year'.
But you know the stupidest thing of all? It really does. Days/weeks/months go by. Is there an age you hit when time really does hasten? When you're young you think you have all the time in the world to do anything. Now, when you reach 40 (nearly), the things you thought you would do havent been ticked off yet, you work for a living and you think, oh god when can i fit it all in?
Fuck, is this the start of my middle aged crisis, or manopause? Clearly i'm going to have to get a motorbike, start dying my hair (fuck i do that already), wear younger 'hip clothes (tick), chat up women far too young for me (oh dear) and start dropping words like OMG and 'sick' into conversation. At this rate time will go so quickly that in a few years time Christmas will start in May, May day will begin the year before and time, well fuck knows really, time will be like 1993 on a Blue Microdot (Thats LSD for my older readers - sorry Nan/Mum)
Big news todays readers. I had a promotion! Not only was i trusted with the entire stationary order for a department but i was tasked with tracking down an overcharged bar bill from one of the advisers at an event we organised. I was thrilled. I'd earnt that responsibility.
In my head i was now the Jack Regan of the office. Charging around in tight strides and kipper tie (with a little fried egg stain on it) Tracking down the overcharged £400 bill. I'm going to have to slap girls on the arse, call them 'sweetheart', start drinking whisky from the top drawer and calling everyone 'guv'.
Clearly My English degree, 8 years experience in Premier League football and 6 years running a Rugby Club had been leading up to this moment. I was ready. I was on it. I was immediately outside sucking on a Rothmans. I was as fired up as a camp fire that had been pissed on.
It wasn't all dull and games though. I completed an excel spreadsheet to cross reference financial marketing promotions with the FSA compliance team. I've got to tell you i was almost permanently semi hard. No amount of 'when tranny met granny' could match doing this task. All those years peaking on high strength E's could never match the buzz i got of matching 'Review 37' with FSA compliance sub section 4 paragraph II. I almost came in my boxers.
I did find out why the 49 year old IT worker in Tottenham Court Road went mental in the office on Friday though, threatening to blow everyone up causing a major seige situation and evacuating 100 office workers from the area.
Turns out his office has the same Sharp MX660Z printer as us. I wage a war with that little cunt every day. It goads me. Teasing me with 2 copies and jamming 10. Flashing 'paper jam' on the screen at will. I think it's got a really snooty mind of it's own. It likes adverts and design stuff, but when you put in spreadsheets and memos it doesnt want to know. I think it's got ideas above it's station. It's an arrogant printer, thinking it's above the mundane daily office chores. Oh fuck. It;s effectively me in printer form. Oh god i am now an MX660Z. Weird.
So that is the reason he flipped. He couldn't take the paper jam anymore. 12 years of shoot 2 being jammed is enough to send anyone over the edge. Just look at Elvis. Add the frustration of no-one ordering post it notes and an ultra slow internet connection and you basically have a recipe for a spree killing. Harsh.
So another slow day really. I'm not going to lie i've struggled writing over the past 2 days. My passion and energy on topics close to my heart or when i'm angry is easy to write and i enjoy it. It flows and i write like i share. It's a lot harder when not alot is going on and the past 2 days has been like that.Still i did say on day 1 that some days will be good and some not so good. That i will say things i shouldn't and wished i hadn't (especially as my Mum reads this every day)
So i'm not going to be too hard on myself. I'm going to sign off for the night. It's 12.13am and Property ladder is on More 4. I'm not remotely interested in the programme, it;s just i've had a major crush on Sarah Beeney for years. She looks as dirty as Barefoot Contessa, but not a patch on the ultimate vixen, Anna Ryder Richardson. God, those three, me, in a kitchen, with the Two Fat Ladies kneading minced beef in the corner in Lard and painted nails. Christ, the mind boggles.
I'm off to bed now readers, then therapy in the morning. I clearly need it. Sick
xx
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