Eyes

I sit here writing this on a cold yet sunny afternoon. The sun is shining bright for the first time in days and for some this brings a welcome change and relief from the rain and floods, for me, its made me feel more well, down. Normally I’d jump in the car to relish a day out somewhere but at this present moment I have no car. You see, I’ve finally had to have the dreaded eye tests for the DVLA (Driving and Vehicle Licensing Athority), and now its a waiting game a very long, waiting game. Every day I wait for the postman to arrive, hopeful that he will bring the letter that I don’t actually want to receive, and every day for the past 2 weeks I have cautiously picked up the post feeling sick and light headed with palpitations so bad I actually have to clutch my chest and count to ten just to try and bring the feeling of death back to a murmer. Every day I lightly fan through the letters then partially breath a sigh of relief before frustration takes over once more as yet again I will have to wait until tomorrow to find out if I’m allowed behind the wheel of a car again.

I once wrote that when this time came then the upside would be eye surgery to correct my vision but alas this will not be so. There will be no treatment available on the NHS. They don’t do laser surgery for severe myopia, they don’t do lens replacement for snowflake cataract both of which I’m now suffering from BUT they will dish out many plastic surgery procedures be it for scars, bigger boobs, pinned ears, gastric bands etc, but eyes… Nope, not a chance in hell!!

The eyes, a window to your soul, are left to die.

The curtains are closing

RESPECT!!

I walked off a job yesterday, not a decision I take lightly but felt I had no option in the end.

It started Monday (today is Wednesday), I arrived on site at 6:45am closely followed by the manager and a gaggle of people. One in particular was screaming the odds over having to use their car because they missed their lift, still can’t fathom what the problem was, surely its obvious. You miss the free lift you get yourself to work. I was supposed to be sharing accommodation with this person for the rest of the week and I was already having second thoughts and figuring out if I could still survive on 4hrs sleep a night like the old days. So, the precedent was set on how well dealings were going to be with this person’s team for the rest of the day, wasn’t too impressed with the managers way of dealing with it either but hey we all deal with things our own way and this was just a short 4 day contract.

Let’s set the scene now…..I’m on post on a dirt road splitting show exhibitors into their right lanes, already booked in go in the left hand lane and enjoy your day, need to be booked in go in the right hand lane and good luck with stroppy knickers at the next stop, didn’t actually say this but you get the point … All good right? Haha hahaha its worrying to see how many drivers don’t know their left from their rights and how many professional foreign lorry drivers don’t have one word of English (I don’t drive for a living but whilst driving in France I at least made sure I knew both spoken and written of keep left, keep right, no entry etc), well as you can imagine they picked the wrong lane as well and yes stroppy knickers and crew blamed the splitting of traffic team (my team) for not giving correct instructions, frustrating looks from our side all round .. And then the heavens opened..

The good news here was the dirt track was no longer throwing up clouds of dust making it impossible to see anything behind the lead lorry, the bad news was, the jackets supplied were not waterproof. I focused on the good news, baseball hat on, shoulders hunched and away we go. The splitting of vehicles became worse when the left hand lane became flooded and people who were heading in the right direction changed their minds and diverted down the right lane, well stroppy and Co were not impressed, probably because they had to brave the wind and rain for 30 seconds and it messed up the hair and make up and started spinning people round to come back down the one way system the wrong way. Imagine my surprise when I get clipped by the odd wing mirror from a vehicle that shouldn’t be there. All this, the torrential rain, the wind, the non compliance of instruction resulting in the tit for tat reaction went on for several hours, well actually the latter was when they went off shift at 7pm. Before they left there was yet another rant from stropsy which left me in no doubt that I was driving home. I relaid this to the manager on the premise that I needed a dry pair of boots for the morning as my waterproof ones were now no longer waterproof, he didn’t seem impressed but tough, I’d rather risk the roads during the storm then share accommodation with strops.

Driving home Monday at 9pm left me in no doubt that if the weather continued like it was then I’ll have trouble driving in to work the next day.

Tuesday. The journey to site would normally take an hour and fifteen to get in, so gave myself over 2hrs to get there. Made it with 15 minutes to spare.

Me to manager in cheery voice “the roads are terrible took over 2hrs to get in rather then just over the hour”

Manager “yeah, took me an extra 10 minutes as well”

Me unable to see the connection “yeah floods and trees are down everywhere, so many people were turning round and going home”

Manger gruffly “there was a tree down on the caravan site as well”

Me thinking and?! Walked away without another word. The rest of the team start to arrive.

Can’t hear managers briefing due to stroppy (though seems slightly happier) and Co are talking. Catch up on briefing from Co workers that only 4×4’s with no trailers are allowed on site due to ground conditions, yep its still torrential rain and the wind is stronger, but hey, the manager did actually hand me a pair of waterproof trousers that morning so things are looking up. Head out to my non-sheltered post. Take stock of my surroundings, as any good security would, and realise the left lane is impassable to all 2wd cars and small vans. Start splitting traffic into all non booked in and small vehicles, booked in or not, in the right lane. Left lane for booked in lorrys, large vans and 4×4’s, forgetting of course that most 4×4 drivers don’t realise these are the conditions their cars are built for and also stop and head down the right lane. Little bit happy, now back to full strop comes over the radio about not doing our jobs properly and sending everyone down the right lane. I politely reply that they might want to take note that the left lane is about 2ft deep and 30ft long worth of flood waters. Next thing I know I have a 4×4 coming up alongside me from the wrong direction.. Here we go again.

Waterproof trousers are not waterproof but do seem to be excellent at trapping the water on the inside.

Happily making the best of an already trying day (only on duty for an hour so far) when someone, was told higher management, decides to pop out their heated room looks at me and states aggressively “I want you to stand there!” points to a spot 6 feet away, turns to colleague “I want you there” again points to a spot 6 foot away. When neither of us move he then continues to point out in the same tone that any disruption to the main road at the top of the track and they will be heavily fined, I’m thinking, no kidding sherlock, I’ve been doing this since before you were born. I still don’t move as he hasn’t actually asked me what I’m standing there for, he stomps off to the person that should of got the brunt of his annoyance as colleague and I are where we should be.

The rot is starting to set in.

Clarification of a lorry was required for entry to site, this was given so I stepped aside to allow it to pass, a second vehicle pulled round behind the lorry, yes my job was to stop the sneakies, which I did with this one, my colleague called across confirming what the driver was telling me about, that he was part of the previous lorry and allowed access, youngun is out again, all I saw him do on Monday was read, cook and eat food in the warm dry cabin, and here he was braving the rain again (what a star.) Shouts “no 4×4’s with trailers allowed” I stick my hand out to stop driver.

Driver “oh for f… sake”

Colleague “Their allowed on”

Driver glaring at me “I’m with that F…… lorry”

Youngun also glaring at me “no trailers allowed”

Colleague “let them on”

Driver edging forward

Youngun “don’t let them in”

Me “you know what, sort it out between yourselves, I’m done”

As I walk away I hear “just do your f….. job”

Back to the warm cabin to strip off the waterproof but not actually waterproof gear.

Youngun follows “got a bit wet?”

Me “no I’m going”

Youngun “why?”

Me looks in disbelief and told him exactly why. Manager was called.

After heated discussion on which it transpires youngun is not management (but is owners son), and the stroppy brigade are more like friends of the manager then staff, and with youngun denying he spoke with anything other then respect, means all I need is to come out of the wet apparently as they have all decided this is the reason I’m not happy. This just strengthened my resolve to leave.

My conscience is still prickling at me that I left my 2 colleagues to deal with the traffic in those horrendous storm conditions along with the stropsies and youngun suddenly realising he’s being paid to do something but felt I had no option. Sorry guys

Pushing the barriers

I have a very small comfort zone, me in my house, preferably with not having to answer the door or even phone. Obviously I push the barriers every time I go to work or I go shopping etc but just lately I’ve noticed I’ve been making the decision to destroy my comfort zone even if only for a few minutes or where needed a whole entire day.

If you’ve read previous posts then you’ll know all about the running and yes I’m still doing that, go me, which is something I’ve never been good at or liked, even when my comfort zone could of covered the world with a fitness level to match. Which has led to other things, and before fitness lovers take the stand of “told you so” it’s nothing to do with the actual running it’s pushing past that barrier that holds me captive.

Anyone that knows me, and that’s not many, know that I wear trousers for 99% of the time and long skirts for 1% of the time. What nobody knows is that it’s not down to my shape but mainly the disfigurement of my knee since damaging it over and over again and the subsequent surgery and then more damage but, we had a 1940s day at work, now my first thought and several rethinks after was to go as a land girl. Obvious choice really, leg covered, wear wellies so nice and flat for the knee and hip (more injuries), and with a smear of mud on the face and slightly messy, though to be honest totally natural, hair I’m done, very happy and as comfortable as I’ll ever be in a dress up situation. With less then a couple of weeks to go I ended up ordering a dress bearing in mind the 40s are the dreaded knee length, white gloves, stockings etc then dug out a pair of heels. Only a little over a inch high but still not something my joints are used to. The day of the event I had to sort the unruly curls into something sleek and elegant. I sort of cheated and found a fishnet scarf and somehow managed to make it compliment the outfit, which to be honest I was starting to wonder what I was thinking of, ordering it instead of the safe dungeries! Then of course came the extra heavy make up, again something that I wasn’t ready for and was now making me feel as though I was balancing so far over the edge of a cliff that even a tiny whisper of a breeze and I would topple. Some how I drove to work and was greeted by something I really wasn’t expecting, a lot of “wows” and “you look amazing”. In case you was wondering I was expecting laughter or at least sniggers. To cut a very long (and probably boring) story short I actually won best dressed staff member. Something I never dreamed possible especially when I was considering just as I was leaving for work of changing and going in in usual uniform and pretending I was an idiot for not remembering. That’s easier for me to handle, the idiot badge, my default mode when I normally step outside my comfort zone.

Then of course, riding on a high for several days I briefly took my small constricting comfort zone and threw it away to audition, if you can call my piece to camara that, to be part of a paranormal investigation team on the TV, the Most Haunted programme to be precise, just for one episode but still, I’m the one that sits there saying “I’ll have to enter that” then remind myself a couple of times before eventually hearing who won then reprimanded myself for not doing it. Surprisingly I’ve actually got my fingers crossed that I’ll make the shortlist and have even thought it’ll be wonderful to be picked for the show. Not one shred of dred has crept in, yet.

Will I carry on down this path of giving my comfort zone a mighty hefty shake up, I hope so. Maybe along the way I’ll find a shred of the old me scattered around, waiting to be picked up.

Have a glorious day, week, month and year.

Morning run

I awoke an hour early today for some reason, now rather than do my usual on these rare occasions which is either just lay there drifting in and out of dream world or get up and make coffee then catch up on the billion and one recordings I have I actually got up, got dressed, and went for a run!!!! Yes, me, running…. Did the earth shake for you this morning, if so that might of been me lol.

Now to put this into perspective, I haven’t been running in 30 years, after the several major accidents I’ve had I’m always just grateful that I can now walk unaided, so weight and fitness has never bothered me. I’m unsure why I went running this morning, I had no fitness plans in mind, maybe this is not really me, or maybe I’m still dreaming (though felt nightmarish when gasping for breath). Maybe I’ve been taken over by an alien or a demon (after all, this would normally be my worst nightmare).

What ever the reason, I hope to do it again soon, who knows where this might lead. These are dangerous times my friend, but at the moment (best Michael Bubl√© voice coming up) I’m feeling goooooood

Housework

When you became master/mistress of your own home was there anything that suddenly shocked you that had to be done? For me it was dusting the skirting boards. I knew how to dust, I’d seen my mum do it and on the odd occasion I would also dust. I knew about vacuuming as had seen and done my fair share. I knew how to wash up, dry and put away. I had attempted ironing on more then one occasion which I’m guessing my mum really wished I hadn’t as did actually burn a few clothes (sorry mum). I could make tea, badly, and coffee and I subjected my parents to many a dinner of egg stodge and beans, was meant to be omelette and beans but it always ended as stodge, but I digress…the thing I never saw my mum or dad do was wash or even wipe down skirting boards, this came as quite a shock when I suddenly noticed how fluffy they were one day, dare I admit but roughly a year after moving in to my own place, even now its not a natural thing to do when it’s housework day, but it certainly doesn’t take a year anymore before noticing. You may be laughing at this but I bet there was something you didn’t realise had to be done but now seems so obvious.

The rich get richer

I find myself having to give up my beloved car, not because of the eyes, that’s coming in the near future and I had hoped that my little Leo would last me till then but alas, work has me driving around the country and a 1.1 just doesn’t cut it anymore.

I start off as happily as possible (love my leo) looking at 2nd hand cars, and I know this flies in the face of my last post but I soon realise how expensive everything has become (maybe I should of done that overtime). The cars that are just a year younger then mine are nearly ¬£1000 and mines quite old to be honest. Some have less then a months MOT (in Britain a car has to take this test every year to stay legal on the road or every 6 months if its a taxi), so you can imagine the bills that will come with getting it past an mot if current owner doesn’t think it will pass. So as I ponder my choice of current car against extortionate year younger but higher engine car my eyes shift to my DVD and CD collections (stay with me here), I wonder how many thousands I’ve spent over the years on this which in turn makes the actors/musicians etc millions, so much money that they have no idea what to spend it on.

How much have we all invested over the years especially when media format keeps changing. I have several copies of the same album on tape, record, cd and now digital. Same with films VHS to dvd to digital (I never went down the blueray road luckily), and that’s not including the cinema and concerts attended.

So my question is, how many shares do I hold in these people and where can I cash them in for a reasonable price (and I’m not talking about selling cd’s at a ridiculous price of 50p)? We have all invested thousands for them to make millions and now I need to cash out.

My pondering is becoming depressing so I’ll go back and look at old cars that I can’t afford in the hope that something will turn up so I can carry on working for the short time I have left.

Work home balance

After a conversation with a work colleague about how much they used to earn a few months ago (lots of hours needed) to how much they earn now left me wondering….. Am I the only person who wants a home life?

I go to work to pay the bills, yes we all do that I know, but then once that is done I’d rather be home enjoying the evening/day with my children. I don’t drive a flash car, I’ll never go on expensive holidays once a year let alone twice, three times a year, and I’m not insulting the people that have the cars and holidays either but, that’s all I hear my colleagues talk about “finally paid off the car” or “really need the overtime so we can go on to holiday to Australia” etc. Not saying that wouldn’t be an amazing holiday, though I’d rather go to the New Zealand to be honest but still, I’d rather be clocking off at a reasonable time and going home to watch George of the Jungle with the kids though if truth be known I’d also easily watch that film for my own enjoyment.

So am I the only one who thinks like this? Surely not