Yeah, so I’ve had a shitty week. And now I’m cranky. Cranky because everyone and everything related to my real life existence has been Doing. My. Head. In. Things are now set to look up, but lest I forget that which has conspired recently to annoy me, and therefore risk losing my grip on all this rampant negativity, I’m making sure I write it all down. For posterity. YEAH. Because I’m fun like that.
So. This weeks shit list is as follows:
1. Work meetings that masquerade as being part of a consultation process when in reality any relevant decisions have already been made long ago and none of the people with any real power who made them give a flying frig what anyone says at the so-called consultation meeting which is by now clearly pointless even if cake has been provided.
That may have been a long and rambly sentence criminally lacking in any kind of appropriate pauses, but seeing as that’s entirely in keeping with the circumstance it describes, I’m going to let it stand. Oh how I just love to have my time wasted. It really is my absolute favourite thing.
2. My son giving me a continual running commentary on… well pretty much anything really, but his Welsh homework in particular. So he has an assignment which is to write half an A4 page on what he has been up to over the weekend. It is precisely thirty minutes until his bed-time and he appears to be consumed by a burning desire to read me the one sentence he’s spent the last hour putting together… again. Also, he cannot possibly think what else to write. Have I got any ideas?
No, is the short answer. Because my Welsh is… at best… random. I can say ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘thank you’, ‘good day’, ‘good night’, ‘come here’, ‘sit down’, and ‘number five please’ (the latter picked up from all the hours of my life I’ll never get back queueing in the post office). However from there on in, things start to take a turn for the strangely tangential. There is my latest phrase which is… ahem: ‘Dau gi bach dim un hoffi tywod‘, which translates roughly as, ‘Two little dogs don’t like sand’. Don’t ask. Plus there is also: ‘Wedi mynd, bell yn ol’ which means, ‘It’s gone, a while ago’. And that’s about it. Useful, I’m sure you’ll agree.
But whenever I attempt to speak to my children in Welsh, their response is to stick their fingers in their ears and shout at me to STOP JUST SAYING RANDOM WORDS. Apparently I DON’T MAKE SENSE. Which is fine, but then DON’T ASK ME WHAT YOU CAN WRITE ON YOUR WELSH HOMEWORK. BECAUSE I’LL ONLY TELL YOU TO WRITE RANDOM STUFF LIKE HOW TWO LITTLE DOGS THAT DON’T LIKE SAND WERE GONE A WHILE AGO PLEASE THANK YOU GOOD NIGHT.
It’s funny really, because whenever I speak to my neighbour in Welsh, she seems to love it. Seriously, she falls about the place instantly. Hysterical is not even the word.
3. Testicle pictures. Because there’s this guy that works in our building now. One lone wolf man in our all woman work force. Apparently – so I’m told – he manages the place, but I’ve a feeling ‘building manager’ is in fact code for ‘besuited and vastly overpaid care-taker’. He certainly is fond of laminating things. Anyway, the other day, apropos of nothing, he showed one of my colleagues a medical photograph of his poorly testicle. Which, you know, pissed me off. And not because I wanted to see it either.
4. My own sense of direction. Which is worse than a decapitated chickens. This week I opened a full length cupboard door in the adjacent building to my office thinking it was the way out. Turns out not only had I got the wrong door, I had also got completely the wrong floor. Please do bear in mind this building is no larger than your average, three bedroomed domestic dwelling. Fact: I have the spatial awareness of an over-excited puppy on drugs. It is so bad I EVEN ANNOY MYSELF! Plus there is no surer way to convince everyone you work with that you are mental than trying to exit a building through a bloody cupboard door.
Yet more things that have annoyed me this week:
My busted lawnmower.
Stupid skype notifications.
And that thin lipped bloke off The Apprentice who keeps asking for ‘specifics.’ (The one with the stupid hair has grown on me rather).
So yeah. Blah. Here’s to the weekend.