Sinister: hogging the slow lane, just to show off

[Kev]

Hello,

Um, me again. Writing for no reason other than it's a Sunday
evening, I'm drinking cheap, strong (repellant really) cider
and I, y'know, felt like it.

I'm glad that there Sheffield picnic was fun. I nearly went
you know, honest I did. I nearly decided to show my face and
be sociable and happy and all the rest. I even looked at the
train timetables. As it turned out though, I woke up on
Saturday with a rather sore head after having indulged
rather heavily on the Diet Tango the night before, and as
well as feeling as sick as a lab rat I just plain forgot.
Sorry.

That was non-story number one. There'll be another in a
moment.

You'll never guess, so I'll tell you. On Friday I bought my
first ever car. By mistake. I saw it in the showroom drove
in it, and before I knew what I was doing I'd signed about
two hundred pieces of paper, earned a gurning salesman a
nice commission and landed myself in debt for the next four
years. Still, there's a Fiat Punto out front, and it's
green. Which is all that really matters.

The thing I've noticed most though, after getting over the
novelty of driving for the first time in about 3 years had
worn off and I'd managed to work out that the car isn't, in
fact, as wide as the WHOLE ROAD and driving like a SCREAMING
MANIAC, was that I don't know how to actually *get*
anywhere. No idea at all. No idea how to get out of Leeds,
no idea how to even get to the video rental shop. I pulled
out of the drive to go to work today and suddenly realised
that the only route I knew was the way the bus went, and
apart from that being a really twiddley windey way to go it
didn't even get me to the office just to the centre of town,
and also that it goes through lots of bus only roads. People
get upset if you drive down those. So what I have, in fact,
sacrificed my social life and abundant CD purchases for the
next century or so for is a very expensive metal box. Still,
it is green, as I said.

I shall have to invest in a map.

This is non story number two : the company I work for has
recently moved into some ultra sexy new offices (as
apparently we are doing "really well" and I should be very
excited, all it really means though is that likely I'll need
to start working harder, or even at all) and with that move
we've got some friendly new staff who help to keep the
office tidy and ensure that people's bins are emptied etc.
Fair enough. One of the things they do though - at the
management's request, I assume - is come around at the end
of the day and generally give your space a bit of a tidy,
make sure there are no paper cups left around etc. BUT, what
they also seem to do is take everyone's personal mug (if
they have one) into the kitchen and do a great load of
washing up. Now I think this might just be me, but I
personally feel really uncomfortable with someone doing that
for me, it seems to be implying that they are somehow
beneath me and that I'm more important than them because I
work *for* the company, rather than just cleaning up after
it. it's like when people don't say thank you to waiters, I
*hate* that. So anyway I had to take hold of my mug and say
to the lady that really, it was fine, I'd wash the mug
myself, don't worry about it. Only I'm not sure if that
doesn't only make things worse. I worry about it every day
when it gets too about 5:15. I try not to be at my desk,
which, to be honest, isn't very hard.

That's been playing on my mind, anyway.

Oh dear. I appear to have talking for a large number of
days. Sorry. But I do only post once every ice age or so,
and this time I have a car. It's green you know.

Love and inexplicable half recognised gestures.
Kev (soon to be horizontal).
---
http://www.lost-cat.org.uk/

Post Script - Because I always think they're rather good,
don't you? Oh, and Nick Cave is under your bed. I'm not
kidding.

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