Wednesday, August 13
My stupid arsing bastard employment agency. I rang them up on Monday to see if they had any work for the rest of the week for me, and they told me that I could go to this place in a nearby town on the Tuesday, and possibly for the rest of the week. After a series of phonecalls to organise transport and to find out whether I really was needed, it was sorted. Be ready to catch the organised lift at 7.30am Tuesday. No worries.
At about 6pm Monday afternoon I got another phone call to tell me I wasn't needed after all. Bastards. Then, at 10pm I got yet another phone call, but this time asking me to work that very night. It was down at Fiege Merlin, the place I had worked at for a month or so a few weeks ago. It's pretty easy work, and I thought I'd be finished by 4/5am latest, so I said yes, I could make it.
I got down there to find out that actually I was working at a different part of the site than previously. This time I would be shifting big bastard-heavy washing machines and fridges ("white goods" to those in the trade...) around all night. Plus, their shift was 10pm till 6am, usually with at least an hour of overtime. It was going to be a long night.
I fully admit to not being the strongest person around, and this became evident pretty early on. It wasn't such a big deal, since there were these truck things that you lift the boxes with to help you. You know what I mean, 2 wheels, 5 foot tall, a little lip to shove underneath the thing you're lifting. Even though they take the weight whilst on the move, they're still fucking hard work. You have to lift the nearside of the box a little to shove the lip underneath, then lift the entire farside of the box in order to tilt it and be able to move it. It's fucking hard work.
We didn't finish until gone 7am, and I came straight home and crashed into my bed. Actually, that's a lie. I went first to see if this roadside burger-bar I know (Den's Diner) was open. They do the best Breakfast Baps, with everything imaginable in it. Sausages, bacon, tomato, fried egg and something else which I can't remember right now. Okay, that isn't everything imaginable, but it's pretty damn close. Except at that time it wasn't open. Dammit. I couldn't be arsed to go home for 20 minutes, then to pop back round to it, so I just went to bed.
3pm is a good time to wake up. I love lying in until that sort of time, although by the time you get to 6 o'clock it begins to feel weird. "Hmmm, it's getting towards the evening, and I've only been awake for 3 hours." It messes with your mind.
I went out in the evening to go play some pool with a mate of mine. 5-2 to me is the current score, although he is 2-1 up for snooker. I don't mind, pool is much more of a drinkers game...
That leaves today. I've done pretty much fuck-all, but I did get a phone call from Bailey's about work tomorrow. Back to the cream factory that I was at last Friday. At least this time I've shaved my beard off, so I'll only have to wear a hairnet. For fucks sake. I hate fucking hairnets. I swear I told Bailey's at the start of the summer that I didn't want to do food production. Bastards. Just proves that no matter what you aim to do / have, you always settle for less. To think I was planning just to work in offices this summer...