na§tee
01-25-2007, 11:30 AM
that are particularly LOL, sad, interesting, bizarre, whatever. do share them. you don't even have to explain the context if you don't wanna. i just got the idea because my heee-uge gmail account of course saves everything and i was looking back at some shit. i never have to delete anything. perhaps you guys are more organised than me and this thread will die on its arse? och well.
here is an email i failed to send to its intended recipient but nevertheless copied it in to my german friend tom to indicate how i had been feeling that week. i won't quote the surrounding email. it's long enough as it is. i was a bit unhappy lol!
23 february 2006
it has been a pretty crap week as crap weeks go over here, however.
i finished the job at the property manager place and started a job at a surveyors. i heart property. it was meant to be for two weeks, but motherfuckers couldn't predict how fast i would do all their lame-ass jobs so it's over as of now [friday] so yahoo!
surveyors, seriously, are some of the most boring people on earth. wasn't xxxxx [the director of the film office] a surveyor back in the day? WHY? he is way too awesome for that. the office was one of the most depressing i've seen. blinds down. no light. literally no one talking to each other apart from the bank of women on one side of a wall. what i had to do was type up data to go in a massive database of some surveying [if that's what they indeed call it] of royal mail.. places. i dunno. don't ask. all i know is that i have typed the words "ceiling: painted plaster" "floor: vinyl floor tiles" "anti-fungicidal treatment" and "fair to poor condition" more times in this week than ever in this 22+ year life of mine.
it sucked so much.. it goes into new realms of sucky-ness. literally non-stop. when i finished that it was more audio typing. i am positive that this is what they make you do in hell, with people who have a really strong glasgow accent. oh how important you must be that you speak your minutes into a dictaphone and pass it on for someone else to type up. guh!!!!
you may have noticed this is going to turn into a bit of a rant, which i apologise for, but i have had an uber shatty day and after explaining most of what i have explained to my dad on the phone right now he replied with those inspiring fatherly words of "that's just life." yeah dad. thanks.
the person who was giving me the work was so sour-faced i thought she would cry lemon juice if i punched her in the throat like i wanted to. she evidently hated her job much more than i hated doing her extra workload for her and made it clear to me everyday. some people just have no joy. i hate that. what the fuck is the point? i know it sounds like i have no "joy" right now because i am going on a total mission but fuck me, i am good craic and i let people know things which would make their day better and i made a little photo-diary of my working day to make the day go by and i dance to annie lennox on my own and i generally smile once in a while. i seriously think maybe a temp was brought in because she was on the edge of some sort of nervous breakdown.. i dunno.
the rest of the secretary-type people were pretty good fun, if from a different world altogether. total neds but who cares? they were lovin' it. one was absolutely obsessed with derek acorah and he told her her nan was looking over the last time she TRIED TO KILL HERSELF [???!] in the bath. yeah, is that because you have this job, doll?
but during this job i have spent most of the time, in between the asbestos and moss treatment, staring at my monitor and laughing sporadically at it. i would look across at the bank of women next to me and PROMISE myself not to end up like that, for all their simple good fun and all, were just typing machines. fair enough if it turns them on, but i seriously wonder if it is just down to not having any opportunities, and if that is the case, what makes them really that different from me? apart from the fact that they look like they have mild downs syndrome and were totally shocked i could spell "sub-poena"?
that.. was nasty and i am going to hell to do some audio typing for that so sorry ashley, cathy and kathleen, whatever your names were.
today i had an informal interview with the strathclyde police road policing unit - yeah cos i totally had to get the most boring police department in glasgow! - for the temp agency and had to find the office in govan. i wish someone could have seen me. i got lost, as i do because i didn't really give a shit if i got to the office at all, and had to call up the temp place about 4 times to get the right directions. i was near ibrox stadium and all the really depressing boarded up houses with gardens about 2 foot deep full of nappies and trash and it started raining.
this was not a good moment for it to be raining.
it started raining, and i was lost, and i burst into tears at the FUCKING RIDICULOUSNESS of how DESPERATELY UNHAPPY i am at the moment and you know what happened when i saw the police station on the horizon? and i swear this is no word of a lie to make it even more funny - i [I]FELL OVER.
yes that's right. i slipped and fell over on one of those slippy fucking manhole covers in the rain and landed so hard on my wrists and knees in front of all the weegie traffic. so my knee started bleeding. and the door i was directed to.. it's entrance fucking system wasn't working so i had to stand in the rain for even longer calling the temp agency so they can call the office blah de blah de blah.
well. i got in and everything was fine in the end, but whatever, it was a really bad day and the taxi driver [for no way was i gonna walk back to the surveyor's place after all that!] told me not to eat in the taxi. and i am on my period and my flatmates are away. i have to shout! meeehhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
here is an email i failed to send to its intended recipient but nevertheless copied it in to my german friend tom to indicate how i had been feeling that week. i won't quote the surrounding email. it's long enough as it is. i was a bit unhappy lol!
23 february 2006
it has been a pretty crap week as crap weeks go over here, however.
i finished the job at the property manager place and started a job at a surveyors. i heart property. it was meant to be for two weeks, but motherfuckers couldn't predict how fast i would do all their lame-ass jobs so it's over as of now [friday] so yahoo!
surveyors, seriously, are some of the most boring people on earth. wasn't xxxxx [the director of the film office] a surveyor back in the day? WHY? he is way too awesome for that. the office was one of the most depressing i've seen. blinds down. no light. literally no one talking to each other apart from the bank of women on one side of a wall. what i had to do was type up data to go in a massive database of some surveying [if that's what they indeed call it] of royal mail.. places. i dunno. don't ask. all i know is that i have typed the words "ceiling: painted plaster" "floor: vinyl floor tiles" "anti-fungicidal treatment" and "fair to poor condition" more times in this week than ever in this 22+ year life of mine.
it sucked so much.. it goes into new realms of sucky-ness. literally non-stop. when i finished that it was more audio typing. i am positive that this is what they make you do in hell, with people who have a really strong glasgow accent. oh how important you must be that you speak your minutes into a dictaphone and pass it on for someone else to type up. guh!!!!
you may have noticed this is going to turn into a bit of a rant, which i apologise for, but i have had an uber shatty day and after explaining most of what i have explained to my dad on the phone right now he replied with those inspiring fatherly words of "that's just life." yeah dad. thanks.
the person who was giving me the work was so sour-faced i thought she would cry lemon juice if i punched her in the throat like i wanted to. she evidently hated her job much more than i hated doing her extra workload for her and made it clear to me everyday. some people just have no joy. i hate that. what the fuck is the point? i know it sounds like i have no "joy" right now because i am going on a total mission but fuck me, i am good craic and i let people know things which would make their day better and i made a little photo-diary of my working day to make the day go by and i dance to annie lennox on my own and i generally smile once in a while. i seriously think maybe a temp was brought in because she was on the edge of some sort of nervous breakdown.. i dunno.
the rest of the secretary-type people were pretty good fun, if from a different world altogether. total neds but who cares? they were lovin' it. one was absolutely obsessed with derek acorah and he told her her nan was looking over the last time she TRIED TO KILL HERSELF [???!] in the bath. yeah, is that because you have this job, doll?
but during this job i have spent most of the time, in between the asbestos and moss treatment, staring at my monitor and laughing sporadically at it. i would look across at the bank of women next to me and PROMISE myself not to end up like that, for all their simple good fun and all, were just typing machines. fair enough if it turns them on, but i seriously wonder if it is just down to not having any opportunities, and if that is the case, what makes them really that different from me? apart from the fact that they look like they have mild downs syndrome and were totally shocked i could spell "sub-poena"?
that.. was nasty and i am going to hell to do some audio typing for that so sorry ashley, cathy and kathleen, whatever your names were.
today i had an informal interview with the strathclyde police road policing unit - yeah cos i totally had to get the most boring police department in glasgow! - for the temp agency and had to find the office in govan. i wish someone could have seen me. i got lost, as i do because i didn't really give a shit if i got to the office at all, and had to call up the temp place about 4 times to get the right directions. i was near ibrox stadium and all the really depressing boarded up houses with gardens about 2 foot deep full of nappies and trash and it started raining.
this was not a good moment for it to be raining.
it started raining, and i was lost, and i burst into tears at the FUCKING RIDICULOUSNESS of how DESPERATELY UNHAPPY i am at the moment and you know what happened when i saw the police station on the horizon? and i swear this is no word of a lie to make it even more funny - i [I]FELL OVER.
yes that's right. i slipped and fell over on one of those slippy fucking manhole covers in the rain and landed so hard on my wrists and knees in front of all the weegie traffic. so my knee started bleeding. and the door i was directed to.. it's entrance fucking system wasn't working so i had to stand in the rain for even longer calling the temp agency so they can call the office blah de blah de blah.
well. i got in and everything was fine in the end, but whatever, it was a really bad day and the taxi driver [for no way was i gonna walk back to the surveyor's place after all that!] told me not to eat in the taxi. and i am on my period and my flatmates are away. i have to shout! meeehhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!