Don't take away my take away.

Saturday 14th September. 2013.

Well, aren't I awful ? It's been a whole ten days since I last wrote anything in the blog. A whole ten days where the rest of the world - or at least the fifteen or so people that stumbled across my page - could rest in peace without my opinion chucking, boredom logging drivel.

Anyway, for anyone that was actually missing my documentary upon the life of the fallible fella, then I guess here's what you've been waiting for.

Last week I got the wrong night for when Steve, Helen and some others were going to come round mine to do some filming. This actually took place on Tuesday, September 10th. It was the first time in about six months since I've seen Helen. We started about an hour later than planned, because I was delayed leaving work, and Steve was later getting here than he'd anticipated - having held off on his earlier plans because I had let him know that I was working late.

As it happens, I got a taxi from work. First time I've ever had to rush AWAY from work like that, only to wait here an hour for everyone else to turn up. Still, When they did arrive, it was a very good evening, with a not unexpected level of laughter and mucking about from some people.

It was really nice to see Helen again. I was worried that things between us would be really strained, but actually when she turned up, it was rather easily as if she had not been absent from my life for such a period of time.

She really isn't having a good time of it, with the problems that's she having in her family. After the filming was done, we sat and talked and caught up, until about half past midnight.

I was so glad that I had arranged for the filming to take place on an evening before my day off.

So I had a day off. What did I do on my day off ? Well apart from lots of not very much, I did actually sit down with my Chromebook for an hour or two and designed a process chat for the guys at work to follow on some stuff we're working on right now.

That's right, my life is so fucking sad. Hardly rock and roll.

As the being late getting out of work on Tuesday indicated, it's been a tense few days. So much to do, and so little time to do it in.

Tonight, I went out for a lovely meal with Paula and Tony and Steve. We'd originally planned to go for an Indian, but I had asked if anyone else minded we have Chinese food instead, as I had ended up eating two lots of Indian take-away last week. (long story that I will make short, or at least a little interesting later on).

Fantastic evening at the L'Orient in Fareham. It's just so nice to make the effort and go out of an evening and spend time with people, having nice conversations... we had a ranging spectrum of subjects though.

I am going to have to talk more about the events of the week, including an update on teenage terror, but right now, I want to get some sleep. Catch ya later.

So cute !!!

Why a picture of a bunny ? I'll explain later

Monday August 19th. 01:10.

So rather than enjoy, or dwell in the last evening of 'freedom' before I return from holiday tomorrow, I went and did six hours of overtime.

What the hell is wrong with you ? - I imagine you saying. Well, screaming actually.

Hold the fuck on. There's logic to my zany ways.

By sacrificing six hours of my last evening of freedom, (which lets face it, I was going to waste on Second Life or watching some shite on the telly) I get to achieve three very important things.

1) I get a attack the email mountain. When I opened my work email, I had 156 emails awaiting my attention. I now only have 24 - and those are the ones that I actually need to keep.

2) I get paid overtime. Money.

3) I get paid overtime.

4) Did I mention the money ?

Look, the company are happy, the callers are happy - well mostly, I'm happy, hell even the inland revenue are happy.

See. Everyone's a winner.

You might go so far as to say that Chloe and ebay are happy. Because somewhere along the line they figure into the 'dispersal' of the said earned overtime.

Seriously. I am now on a 'not' spending spree. Attack the credit hill. It's not large enough to be considered a mountain, and it's too big to realistically be defined as a 'mound'. Something about that word, I don't like it. Take it away.

MY boss must have known that I was reading her emails, because she sent me a text saying she wanted to catch up with me when she comes into the office Monday.

Oh shit. I thought. (although I did moderate my response when answering her). I've gotten so used to returning from holidays to find chaos or trouble or beatings lining up for me, that I still do expect them.

She literally told me not to be silly, and went on to be complimentary about my 'can do' attitude.

It's not always been that way, and it's good to see the difference. I'm getting used to it, but it is taking time for attitude, aptitude and experience to align.

Anything can happen Tuesday.

Anything can happen ?

Well it could, just that the probability of some of the more interesting things is really, really, low.

Infinitesimal is the word that comes to mind.

Work is getting a bit drudgery at the moment. There's lots of success, but I'm just feeling that I am at the mercy of paperwork, and not actually getting to spend any time with my people. I want to spend more quality time with them. Away from my bloody computer. Never brings me good news does that machine. Never.

Well, okay I have to be fair quite often there's good news. Someone does really need though to stop writing endless briefs. There's only so much people can possibly read without wanting to kill themselves.

So much information in the information age. In the age of the internet. Most of it's a load of crap though.

Good news is that tomorrow, with any luck I'm going out with the team to go see a film. It's been a couple of months since we did it, and also means we'll get to meet up with Rob, who left the team when he went to work in another area of the company.

It'll also be the first time out with the two new girls that joined the team. They're a bit younger than the rest of the team so their expectations of what the night entails may be a little different. We'll have to see.

Went down with my Mum today, (and my Nephew) to go see the bike that Chloe has been referring to as the 'google' bike. Turns out it's not white, but the handlebars, pedals, saddle post etc are in the primary colours of Google. Don't worry guys, your intellectual property is safe. Leaving work a little bit earlier did mean missing the most of the murderous traffic queue to leave site. Considering that we're supposedly only meant to have cars on site that bring in more than two people there were an awful lot of people I've seen in the last few weeks that seem to be the only person in the car. Unless I guess for some reason the passengers were hidden from view somehow. Anyway, it was much easier and quicker to leave today.

When the need really hits, I am getting quite good at this 'down tools and leave' thing. This absolutely does not mean that I leave anything half done, (or completely not done for that matter). I make sure that I get things finished as I need to.

The sounds of some sort of nocturnal construction work have been resounding and bouncing across the estate the last couple of nights. I think there's some work being done on the motorway that passes by the end of the site. I guess they have to do it sometime, and any noise they make at this time of night is going to be noticeable. Can't see any evidence of the work though when we go past in the morning on the way to work.

planning the escape ? 

This morning I was presented with a light challenge. Waking up in my normal state of 'not really awake... give me coffee !!!!'  meant that it was not until I got to the kitchen, turned on the kettle, and set about feeding the cats that I realised there was only one there to feed. Twilight was there, as usual, communicating to me in her own sweet way that she wanted feeding. She had also been there waiting not so patiently by my bedside for me haul ass out of bed and feed her.

Midnight was nowhere to be seen. I looked round the flat for him. Called for him.

Then I heard the slightly distant cries of a cat, and traced these cries to the front door. Upon opening it, I discovered both the source of the cries and the location of Midnight. The little bastard had escaped out of one of the open windows. I cannot tell at what time he did this, he didn't appear to be distressed or injured in anyway. It may have been a planned escape. He may have fallen out, or been knocked off the window-ledge by the window blind blowing in the breeze. (There was actually some breeze last night. Thank fuck).

Upstairs he trotted, quite happy that he had been let back in and that his human had again, provided food as trained.
Little fucker.

I suspect that his break for freedom was out my daughter's bedroom window, although it could just have easily been out the window in my room (but I hope I would have noticed this more, and certainly heard the him meowing), or the windows in the front room, which although these do not have whole window openings, are still well within the abilities of the average feline to exit from.

The thing is that Midnight surprised me, had Twilight been the one that had gone out, I would have understood. She's much more the adventurous type. Midnight is normally happy to sit lazing around in or near the flat, and allow Twilight to do all the exploring / catching and 'socialising' with other local cats.

Maybe Twilight pushed him out of the window ? She did look rather pleased with herself when I fed her. Often I've noticed that he muscles in on her food. Revenge is a catfood dish best served cold (from a pouch) ?

Chromebook.

Google Chromebook.

Working straight out of the box. Check

Stupidly easy to use and set up. Check

Happy with the fact that it only cost me £120 in ebay. Check (no, I paid by card).

It seems odd to 'get used' to the idea of typing on something that rests on your lap again. After a couple of different keyboards used to work in conjunction with the iPad, it does rather take some getting used to, navigating without being able to touch the screen. How used to doing that on something so small and portable I have become. It's weird, because I never find myself trying to touch the screen of my desktop computer. I've never expected to.

The keyboard is taking a bit of getting used to, if anything, it actually feels roomier than the wireless keyboard I have on my iMac. (when placed over this keyboard, the iMac's keyboard area is pretty much the same size). The keys feel more spaced out, and at the moment, I'm feeling like I have to work harder to type, but the more I type the easier it gets.

The unit itself is lightweight. Having a laptop resting heavily on your lap being something that would annoy me in years gone by. I think how heavy laptops have been, how distinctly unportable they were. This is VERY portable.

It's a nice little device for knocking out some pages, and with very few distractions, sure I can load up facebook, sure I can check my emails.. but it does instantly feel easier to just connect with the writing.

'connect with the writing'. Would you like that statement with some sprinkles of added pretension. Haven't quite worked out how to right click or whatever I need to do to select alternative spellings yet. This does mean that currently, it's easier for me to just try different spellings myself than it is to select what may be the right one from a handy list. I'm not too bothered about that, I always considered it lazy that the computer does the spell checking thing for you.

You would have expected that Facebook, be in the dictionary though, (well it is, but it's a noun, so caps initial only please, if you want to avoid the red squiggly line of shame).

As it happens, the 'right click' functionality is served by a two fingered click of the touch-pad area. Fascinating.

So far, I really like it. The whole idea was that I wouldn't be lumbered (if it really can be considered lumbering) with ipad and separate keyboard. When I purchased the iPad I had considered buying an Asus Transformer instead, purely because of the detachable keyboard and the fantastic battery life that gave. I had decided against that for two reasons, the first being, that would require up front cost, money, which at the time I did not have. Two, I anticipated wanting to write scripts certainly with the screen in portrait mode, something I couldn't do with the Asus, but the ipad with a wirelessly connected keyboard could do.

love my Chromebook..

As luck would have it, I'm on standby this week, which means at a moments notice I am called in to the emergency call centre. I think they may be watching me, for just as I was about to settle down to an evening of 'getting know' my Chromebook, put the kettle on, and started making a sandwhich (Ham Salad and Brie), then the phone rings, calling me in.

Tired in body, but not so much in mind, some six hours later I come home, to find two rather bemused cats. Treating them to some midnight (okay, 1am) snacks, and grabbing my Chromebook it's a really easy thing to just pic it up and carry on from where I left off. Everything's saved exactly where it was.

If the machine reckons that at 58% battery left, it has four hours and twenty-nine minutes left - then I think either there's something wrong with their calculation there or Samsung have seriously undersold the batteries on this little beauty.

Dumb ways to die. So many dumb ways to die.

Chloe has recently shown me a video on youtube, and an app for the ipad 'Dumb Ways to Die'. It's actually a safety information piece from Australia, but it's quirky, and funny, and interesting enough to watch - and more importantly for people, kids especially to take in what it's on about. Basically don't fuck around on or near railway tracks.

Another dumb way to die, was what happened to me last night, when I was asleep. No, of course I didn't die in my sleep. Not unless there's wifi in the afterlife. To be honest, there may be. We just don't know.

In my dream, I was with Tom Baker, when he was playing Doctor Who. I was running around a lot, with him, in what I can only assume were underground corridors. (They always nearly are on Doctor Who). Anyway. We were running away from the Daleks, trying to escape them. Then the Doctor comes across the brilliant idea, that if he leaves me with the other humans that the Daleks have captured, the ones that they are force feeding in order to serve their goals (not sure what the Daleks would do with a bucketload of obese Humans, but it's a dream, not a carefully thought out Terry Nation script).

 

Anyway, I protest, I'm not happy, but the Doctor persuades me, this is the only way of keeping me safe (because the Daleks would almost certainly kill me if they found me themselves), while the Doctor goes off and does Doctorish things and generally saves the day. 

Anyway, I find myself in this force feeding tube, which is basically a big vertical tube the size of a human, and the stuff that they are force-feeding me bears an uncanny resemblance to skittles. I can most certainly not taste the fucking rainbow at this point I can tell you. 

Anyway, I start choking, on the sheer amount of alien foodstuff (skittles) is being rammed down my throat. 

Cut to Simon waking up in the middle of the night, retching and chocking, with the taste of vomit in his mouth (you know that horrible occasion when you sick into your mouth and swallow it). I'm rather disoriented and frightened. Scared witless that I nearly just choked myself to death in my sleep, or nearly threw up on my bed, (possibly suffocating in my own vomit). 

This rather puts me off the idea of going back to sleep, but somehow I manage it, not really knowing if I will make it till morning. 

It just struck me as a really odd thing for me to dream about, and even odder that my dream would bleed into real life in such a way. I'm just really glad I didn't manage to manifest a Dalek in my dream, and bring that into reality. It may well have only been a late 1970s Dalek, but they were very scary back then. Ok ?

Here I go, improbable again

Somehow I seem to never want to go to sleep when it's time that I should. Ever since childhood I've fought the instruction from my parents about going to sleep when told. Not like it's a switch you can flick I'm sure, but I used to spend many hours, hidden under the covers reading a book by torchlight. 

Ah those years of being lost in Arthur C Clarke, or James Blish, or as I grew older Ben Bova or Greg Bear. Yes, heavy science fiction really. At least that part of my childhood was normally boyish. Apparently it seems these days that it's harder and harder to get boys to read. Looking at the youngsters around me, it's not as if that's because they're spending so much of their lives outside of the home in the pursuit of activities requiring physical exercise. More likely that they're spending it slouched on a sofa or a chair playing on their Playstations or Nintendos. 

Yeah, because I'm a shining example of how to lead an active life. What a hypocrite. When I was younger  was never into sports, I occasionally played tennis with my friend Sean (when I say played, I mean he would repeatedly beat me), I would do more than my fair share of cycling. Cycling's only a habit I've gotten out of with the theft of my most recent bike. With me getting lifts into work, and no longer cycling to pick up Chloe (she refuses to be seen cycling on her bike with me) I just wouldn't really get the use of one. 

It's a shame, and if we ever have some sunny days I do question if I should just go and buy one, even if its a second hand one. I've never been a fan of buying expensive bikes, they just seem to be a waste of money and more of a target to thieves, and it's not like they need any more of an incentive. I can't remember ever owning a bicycle for more than two years. 

I woke late today, having gone into the emergency call centre last night to cover a shift for a friend that was too ill to make it. That was only two and a half hours out of my evening, and gave me the opportunity to sign up for some more on bank holiday monday. None the less, it put my sleep pattern rather out of whack, and I didn't get off to sleep till about 4am.  This meant I didn't surface from bed this morning until something around 9:30, which I didn't think was that bad actually. 

Having felt good about yesterday's activity (which I'll come to in a minute) I thought I'd take advantage of the spare time and go and see Star Trek Into Darkness at the cinema. I looked up the times online, and discovered that the 10am showing, which there was no chance of me catching was the only one until 4pm - which again seemed like a reasonable amount of time to potter around doing other things until I went to see it. 

No sooner had I decided upon my course of action, and even tweeted to such effect, than I jarred my back stepping down off my med (I have to walk over my bed to get to my wardrobe when the clothes rail I use to hang drying clothes is in front of the window). This left me reeling in somewhat a light flavour of agony. Still feels rather stiff and painful now. There was no way I was going to be able to sit down in a chair for 2+ hours in a cinema, or if I did, there was no way I was going to be able to get back up out of it again. I'm sure this would look funny as hell to anyone else in the cinema, me walking around like a 70 year old man that had shit himself. It wasn't something I particularly fancied, and the thought of spending all that money on a cinema ticket and sitting there, in pain, not enjoying the film, gave me another painful twinge. This time in my wallet. 

So I decided to put that off to another day, when my back is up to it. I do still really want to go see the film, I can't believe actually that it's been out two weeks already and I haven't seen it. I hate crowds, and hate sitting in a packed cinema even more. The feeling of being penned in with all those (other) humans makes me feel threatened and edgy. (I can tell you are dialling the mental health professionals). 

I have though, made good use of the extra time at home, and completed the application to change doctors' surgeries - I have lived in this part of the city now for over five years, and had not gotten round to moving to a Doctor that's closer to where I live. Which is a real pain in the arse whenever I need to see them and have to trek all the way to where I used to live, in the centre of town to get medical advice. 

I also called up to see if there's anything that can be done with my mortgage, now that my initial fixed rate period has ended. As much as I was excited by the prospect of this, their (Halifax) call centre system told me there was a long queue and invited me to arrange for someone to call me back. I think when this happens the call centre's message should be more honest .. 'look mate you're never going to get through to us, give up !' As it is, the said arranged call back happened just as I was eating my dinner so I ignored it, meaning I will have to call them again. I wonder whether this time I actually get to speak to a person. Maybe I haven't made it past the first level yet. 

Yesterday in another pique of productivity I cut away at the bushes that had grown up beside the pathway leading to my front door. They had become quite the menace. The poor people trying to bring my internet food shopping order up the path are really having to struggle with their tower of plastic crates full of goodies. It's gone from looking like something worthy of a David Attenborough documentary to something post apocalyptic. I don't have a before photo, but I do have an 'after' shot. 

Realising that there was absolutely no freaking way I was going to get the removed bush bits into my normal weekly refuse collection, my Dad offered to drive me up to the tip with it.  I seized this opportunity to get rid of the large box and two canvas shopping bags full of glass that I had collected over the last 18 months to 2 years. 

It's been persisting down with rain and blowing a gale pretty much since, but when it 'brightens up' I'll ask my Dad if I can borrow his spade and dig out the roots for the bushes. I quite fancy getting some shingle or pebbles (what's the difference ? - size I guess) down, and a couple of large planters or pots with some plants in, maybe even a bench. Some hanging plants would be nice too. Leaning over demolishing the bush(s) didn't help my back, which I think is why jarring it today has hurt so damn much. 

Must be careful, I'm not getting any younger. (poor old git I hear you say ?). 

I just wanted to knock out a quite blog post, on the new keyboard that I bought yesterday - that turned up very speedily this morning - but have actually gone on quite a bit. 

Back in the real world, outside the confines of my self centred life, there's been lots of horrible things happening, that I do want to comment upon, but don't want to make a half arsed job of talking about them at this time of night. They are very serious things, and I want to do them justice by talking about them with a fresh head and clear eyes. My point the other day about that poor person that died at Portchester train station, that reminded me to be thankful for what I do have and that there's always someone worse off than myself.

I think we're all guilty of moaning about the things in our lives, and I guess that's just human nature, but really, when you look at things in perspective. We haven't got a freaking clue about how much other people have to go through. Usually they are the ones suffering in silence too. When I realise that I feel embarrassed and ashamed that I make so much out of the challenges and 'dramas' in my life. 

Sleep ? Who needs sleep ?

Despite being neither worried nor excited about the prospect of returning to work I found it next to impossible to get to sleep last night.

Blogging in my lunch break, stopping myself from working through.

I've been quite pleased with just how quickly I have dealt with the 202 emails in my work email inbox - I now have this down to a respectable 50. This is entirely down to use of my favourite key on the keyboard. Delete. I enjoy it so much that I probably look like a demented pink cyberman repeating the word 'delete' over and over again, and with each email consigned to the great virtual trashcan in the cloud, I look more and more mad.

Several people have commented favourably about my haircut, which always makes me feel nice. You should always compliment a girl about her hair. Just because I'm not a girl doesn't mean I don't like it being noticed.

After dispatching many emails to electronic Valhalla I collected the stats data from the last two weeks. I need to know where I am, how my team are doing. Very much a numbers person. I then of course enter them into a spreadsheet.

My boss has been very complimentary to me as well today, remarking on how well my team are doing against the rest of our work area. This is nice to know. It is certainly one of the best return from holidays I've had. Just have to keep in check that little bit at the back of my head that sits there asking the question 'what's going to come and slap me in the face tomorrow'. Historically. If there are major problems or issues they come to light on day + 1 after return from holiday. In english that means the second day back.

I will just have to wait and see.