I’m still here – chatting with Tanya who works at Nero’s at Gatwick Airport – and I also gave Bob a call at work and he said that he’d give anything to be in my shoes right now because work just got a whole lot worse at P & Q because of a shake up and the hours he’ll have to put in are frightening because a few key people are leaving including ME Esten - and things were not going to be so cushy anymore – which is hard for computer programmers because they can only do so much and then they burn out - so if you push them too hard they just burn out quick. They take careful management if you want to get the peak optimum out of them over a reasonably long career without frazzling them into an early retirement and shelf stacking at Sainsbury’s when the dream of a pig farm doesn’t quite come off (or chickens).
Anyway that made me feel good about leaving. No tears shed there – just have to waut for this damn flight to get re scheduled – and moveon from strong coffee to Lager and then wine and then more coffee and then vodka.
Flight - supposed to leave at 1.30 pm - finally leaves at 6.30pm. Who cares ? Not me I am a nice peaceful – take anything kind of guy and Mrs Banshott and her family of three boys between 10 and 16 are very nice and they are looking after me - chatting and I have played the Nintendo DS a few times and - the reading a book about germ warfare.
I used the toilets 8 times and bought some wet wipes because they were on offer. I looked in WH Smiths at a book on Holistic & Spa Holidays in Italy and made a few mental notes to get pampered – because of course massage and yoga and that kind of thing are supposed to be very good for you - although as a programmer I found it interesting that slouching is now considered to be very good for you as compared to sitting upright as they always seem to have said all these years of health and safety checkers coming round to assess your ergonomics at the desk.
The airport was very full and there were quite a few security police with guns. It looked like they had their hands on the triggers and on false move and you’d be wiped out, although they must be a bit more wary after killing that innocent Brazilian. You can imagine their pep talks – you know – don’t just shoot anyone – we have used up that ticket – we have to get vaguely guilty people now – the public are a bit more choosy now. Theres been plenty of blood gone under the bridge and they cannot afford to make one almighty Garfunkle of the situation again
Then I’m up in the clouds looking out over the sea and then just loads of fast white mist. I’m sitting next to Jock Ryder a guy who works in Germany on shop fitting teams – they move in quick and pride themselves on turning round jobs in 24 hours that others could take a week to do. He gets paid a lot and from what I could gather drank a lot of it away, but he did seem to love his wife and two kids. Jock had a sideline selling kitchen knives and he tried to entice me with his brochure, but I am he last one who needs to do much chopping – well unless I follow that idea of learning to cook in A Spanish , French Greek Italian or what about India – curries - I could become an expert curry maker.
So Esten falls asleep – that’s me falling asleep - and the white fuzz of the clouds whizzes pas and the soundtrack of my life plays backwards through my dozing ears and I dream of white chickens in great numbers. The coop is huge and the ground is arid and the chickens have trouble feeding and I am responsible for getting them enough food but there just does not seem to be enough on the ground or anywhere. Which becomes quite a worry and panic sets in
Anyway that made me feel good about leaving. No tears shed there – just have to waut for this damn flight to get re scheduled – and moveon from strong coffee to Lager and then wine and then more coffee and then vodka.
Flight - supposed to leave at 1.30 pm - finally leaves at 6.30pm. Who cares ? Not me I am a nice peaceful – take anything kind of guy and Mrs Banshott and her family of three boys between 10 and 16 are very nice and they are looking after me - chatting and I have played the Nintendo DS a few times and - the reading a book about germ warfare.
I used the toilets 8 times and bought some wet wipes because they were on offer. I looked in WH Smiths at a book on Holistic & Spa Holidays in Italy and made a few mental notes to get pampered – because of course massage and yoga and that kind of thing are supposed to be very good for you - although as a programmer I found it interesting that slouching is now considered to be very good for you as compared to sitting upright as they always seem to have said all these years of health and safety checkers coming round to assess your ergonomics at the desk.
The airport was very full and there were quite a few security police with guns. It looked like they had their hands on the triggers and on false move and you’d be wiped out, although they must be a bit more wary after killing that innocent Brazilian. You can imagine their pep talks – you know – don’t just shoot anyone – we have used up that ticket – we have to get vaguely guilty people now – the public are a bit more choosy now. Theres been plenty of blood gone under the bridge and they cannot afford to make one almighty Garfunkle of the situation again
Then I’m up in the clouds looking out over the sea and then just loads of fast white mist. I’m sitting next to Jock Ryder a guy who works in Germany on shop fitting teams – they move in quick and pride themselves on turning round jobs in 24 hours that others could take a week to do. He gets paid a lot and from what I could gather drank a lot of it away, but he did seem to love his wife and two kids. Jock had a sideline selling kitchen knives and he tried to entice me with his brochure, but I am he last one who needs to do much chopping – well unless I follow that idea of learning to cook in A Spanish , French Greek Italian or what about India – curries - I could become an expert curry maker.
So Esten falls asleep – that’s me falling asleep - and the white fuzz of the clouds whizzes pas and the soundtrack of my life plays backwards through my dozing ears and I dream of white chickens in great numbers. The coop is huge and the ground is arid and the chickens have trouble feeding and I am responsible for getting them enough food but there just does not seem to be enough on the ground or anywhere. Which becomes quite a worry and panic sets in
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