Enough of that, though. Have been mulling over my future lately and whether to express my interest in redundancy. I would. And I fully intend to give my notice of interest when the letter comes through the door early next week (well, that's when they said it would arrive...). I will aim to embark on a Teaching Assistant's course, may also get a part-time job whilst doing so...who knows?
Went out for tea tonight for colleague's birthday. Nando's in Durham. I ended up giving everyone a lift there (although not a lift back). I paid for a round of drinks and some olives - no fucker else bought anything for me. Cunts. Had to pay for my own bait. Wankers. Dropped colleague off on the way home and saw a cockerel running across the road on the way out of her street. But then again, she does live in Houghton, they are a funny lot there, aren't they? Not the first time I will drive past a cock there, I'll wager. 'Twas most surreal.
One more day of work to endure tomorrow. However, it is the dreaded '1-2-1' meeting with my manager. Wonder how painfully she can shaft me up the rectum? A full report in my next blog.
Am out tomorrow night with my dad's friend. 63 years old and he has the hots for me. Jeez...how special do I feel? Still, he's a good conversationalist, changes my oil for nowt (in the car, before anyone starts thinking smutty thoughts) and pays for tea. I need to save some money this month. Trying to be frugal and economise. Jacket potatoes are becoming my staple diet (and Marksies cheesy coleslaw, of course). Don't think I will be doing much this weekend. Need time to rest, relax and get rid of this carbuncle on my arse.
I have started reading books again. Well, a book. Maybe it is the start of a new way of living for me. In celebration of this momentous occasion, I have noted my favourite books/publications below. Whilst some of these may not be defined as 'novels', I nevertheless read them...reading is reading, whatever you read...let's not be snobbish here, eh?
- 'Tipping The Velvet' by Sarah Waters - a nice Victorian lezza romp. This one has it all - the theatre, Whitstable oysters and dildos. A winning combination.
- 'Collected Poems' by Philip Larkin - potty-mouthed, sex-obsessed university librarian - wonderful
- 'And I Don't Want to Live This Life' by Deborah Spungen. Nancy's mother (of Sid and Nancy fame) reveals all.
- 'Talking Heads' by Alan Bennett. Witty, Northern humour/sadness aplenty. With the emphasis very much on sadness.
- 'Wuthering Heights' by Emily Bronte. One of the first books I read at college. Wonderful. Not enough shagging in it though. Then again, would you take your knickers off on the moors?
- Q Magazine - my monthly immersion into the world of music. However, too much fucking Adele, not enough Depeche Mode/Interpol/Ladytron.
- 'England's Dreaming' by Jon Savage - the punk bible. Excellent tome.
- 'Rotten: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs' by John Lydon - the best book about punk. Vile bit about Steve Jones wanking into a sandwich then giving it to Glen Matlock to eat (he didn't know that there was daddy batter in his cheese 'n' pickle, by the way...makes it all the more gruesome)
- 'The Dirt' by Motley Crue - a vile, disgusting, outrageous biography. I loved it.
- 'No Mercy' by The Stranglers - again, another great book. Those boys could drink.
- 'Take It Like A Man' by Boy George - another page-turner....highly recommended. Very uncomfortable reading about his descent into smack hell, though.
And so, dear reader, I must bid you goodnight. My hip is 'putting', I am weary with sleep, and have to telephone screen several Pakistani's in the morning. Sleep well. xx
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